Broken
by Mirwalker
Summary: SG-1 become involved in a struggle on a world of interstellar abductees, triggering consequences for the planet, a team member, and the entire SGC. (conversion from script format)
1. Chapter 1

**Stargate SG-1: Broken**

by mirwalker

_This story makes use of characters and locations owned by MGM Studios Inc. It is written simply as a form of entertainment and homage; No profit is made or infringement intended._

**NOTES: **These events take place late in _Stargate SG-1_ Season 3 or very early in Season 4. Having completed my latest story (Torchwood: Marathon), am trying to maintain the momentum by converting this nearly-done script, to completed prose.

* * *

**1. Prologue**

As SG-1 stepped across the event horizon, they were met by exactly what the MALP feed had indicated: the Gate emptied into a narrow ravine, just wide enough for the Gate itself, surrounded by steep rock walls on all visible sides. The unmanned vehicle sat just ahead of them; and beyond it, just beyond the reach of the annihilating kawoosh, was the DHD. The space was only large enough for all these elements necessary for receiving, and sending, travelers through the Gate.

"Told ya: dead end," confirmed Carter, moving over to check readings on the MALP.

Never one to be pessimistic, O'Neill pointed out that, "There's always up…"

Jackson and Teal'c glanced up to see that, indeed, they could make out stars in the sky well above the high stone cliffs surrounding them.

Those stars quickly snapped into brighter clarity as the glow of the Gate snapped off; and the foursome was left to ponder the strangely tight environs they'd be sent to investigate. It was rare that an unburied gate seemed positioned to open into an enclosed space; and that odd placement on this next-to-be-explored-world had warranted a live team beyond the MALP.

Thrilled that his team was up in the rotation for such an exciting excursion, O'Neill was about to get the party started, when an altogether new voice called to them from behind the now empty ring of naquadah, "Welcome, newcomers, to Menagerie."

The entire team turned toward the unexpected sound, three with weapons drawn.

Standing just through silent Gate was a young human man, perhaps thirty years old, though his tunic of rags and lean frame suggested he'd led a difficult life. He held a solid wooden staff at his side; and though his eyes were open, he did not react at all to the three bright flashlight beams that converged on him. He cocked his head in response to the team's continued movement and silence; but did not react more noticeably than to continue his greeting, in what sounded to the team's linguist almost like a working class Earth English accent, "Answer me three questions: How are you called? From where do you come? And, What is your nature?"

Jackson whispered to his colleagues, as if to confirm his observation, "He can't see us."

Shaking her own gun-mounted torch side to side, as if to test the hypothesis, Carter wondered, "Maybe he's some kind of hologram?"

"He does appear to be tracking on the sound of our voices," Teal'c pointed out.

Annoyed, O'Neill analyzed the situation at a larger scale. "There's never been anyone _behind_ the Gate before…"

Having taken in all the commentary about him, without any response to him, the stranger reminded them, "I may not see, but I hear well."

Relaxing his trigger finger, their leader shifted his flashlight off the man, to the space behind him. "Well he's inquisitive, whatever he is; and he's between us and the only way out of this box canyon." Of course.

"You _will_ answer me three questions," the man repeated, shifting the grip on his staff to emphasize he should not be further ignored.

"OK, calm down there, kid. We'll answer if you will. I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill, from Stargate Command, Earth. And you are…?" he let the question hang.

"I am Britain."

"As in…?" O'Neill pushed.

"I am named for 'Great Britain,' the empire which is my home," the man explained proudly.

The SGC scientist couldn't help but get involved at that intriguing claim. "Your home? Great Britain? As in the United Kingdoms of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland?"

The man brightened at their apparent recognition, as he seemed to have a happy one of his own. "And beyond, yes! And your accents… You're American! Have you come to liberate us after all this time?"

"Liberate you? From whom?" Carter wondered, even more confused at this revelation.

** "**Hang on," interrupted Daniel, to continue his line of questioning. "You know about the United States too?"

"Of course," explained Britain, as he lowered his staff and stepped through the ring to join them. "When my grandmum was taken, you had just entered the War." He saddened a little, as he shared, "I am sorry she did not live to see your coming. It has taken you _so_ long to find us."

"Well, you're a long way from home," O'Neill played along, with a roll of his eyes and grimace at not knowing whether or how to pop the guy's bubble. "And it took us a while to get here."

"Britain," Jackson persisted, "how exactly _did_ you get here? And from whom exactly are we liberating you again?"

It was now their greeter who was growing confused at their apparent surprise. "I was born here in Menagerie. My grandmum was taken from her home outside London during the War. She said it was the Ger-men who brought her to join the others here."

"The Germans brought you here?" Three sets of SGC eyebrows shot up.

"Yes. And if you haven't come to free us, then they must have captured you as well," Britain surmised with disappointment. "And so I welcome you again to Menagerie, your new home, for the rest of your lives."

* * *

_tbc..._

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	2. Chapter 2

**Stargate SG-1: Broken**

by mirwalker

* * *

**Chapter 2**

As if their alien world greeter's having the name of an Earth nation wasn't unsettling enough, the "you're never leaving" implication of his repeated welcome was downright worrying. All four travelers shared furrowed brow looks with one another.

Their leader spoke first, backing up the revelations a little. "Whoa… Your grandma thought the Germans brought her here?"

"This surprises you," Britain confirmed, as he continued to realize the hopeless implications for their confusion at encountering him. "You were not expecting to find us. To free us? You haven't beaten the Ger-men?"

"He must be talking about one of the World Wars," surmised Carter.

"So his grandmother thought this was a German concentration or POW camp?" added O'Neill.

"And so does he apparently," concluded Jackson, still squinting at the enigma before them, now with growing pity for him.

Britain actually stomped his foot and staff at being talked about, rather than to. "Blind and deaf are different! I am standing right here; you needn't talk as if I wasn't. Who are you?" he repeated yet again, this time with a clearly growing suspicion.

Daniel realized the disrespect he too had played into, and stepped forward to shift the conversation to something more mutually productive. They needed to get information from the man, not antagonism. "We're sorry; this is just a little confusing for us as well. Please let me introduce us. You've met Colonel O'Neill. I'm Daniel Jackson." He pointed to his remaining teammates in turn, indicating that they should speak.

"I'm Major Samantha Carter."

"And I am Teal'c."

"Britain," Jackson resumed his introductions, "we are from an American military organization, one called Stargate Command. We're explorers. The War your grandmother was talking about ended more than fifty years ago. And yes, the Germans were defeated by the U.S. and Allied forces."

"Then why did you not come for us sooner?" Britain asked, crestfallen at what seemed to him some type of admitted abandonment.

Carter grimaced, and O'Neill pursed his lips, leaving Jackson to continue breaking the news. "We didn't know that you were here," with enough remorse in his voice to suggest it was an apology too. "And, I don't think that the Germans sent you here."

"It's not just me," Britain corrected. "There are many others. Different others…"

As if conjured, a shaped dropped from atop the ravine walls to a spot behind the team, trapping them between it and Britain. They reacted immediately, circling back-to-back and bringing up their weapons. With clattering above suggesting there were additional presences nearby, O'Neill and Carter managed to land their lights briefly on a large, reptilian figure as it darted around them in the starlit canyon.

Britain stepped forward, raising his hands to stop the spiraling eyes and tensions. "Rors, wait! They are no threat; they are of my people!"

"We saw the Ring's light, but no signal from you," came the croaky reply, as the SGC flashlights tracked instantly on Rors' scaly face. The lizard-man's eyes darkened against the light, but he did not lower the ragged blade he held.

"We were speaking…" Britain tried to explain.

"_Two_ pairs?" the new arrival cut him off, "This is not as usual."

"Nonetheless, they are here. And they _are_ armed."

Rather than escalating the situation, that the SGC was not helpless actually seemed to please Rors. "They have good weapons? That will help."

Gloating cheerfully at the turnabout cut-from-conversation, O'Neill half-feigned hurt, "Excuse me. We're standing right here…"

"Of course," Britain realized, and gestured as he made introductions. "This is Rors, the leader of Menagerie. This is United States Stargate Command's Colonel Jack O'Neill. Major Samantha Carter. Teal'c. And Daniel Jackson, their speaker."

Unimpressed, Rors continued to address only Britain. "We will take them to the village. You will finish your watch."

"But, they must be sorted and are of my people," Britain protested.

The reptile bent down to his face, knowing he may not be able to see the proximity, but he could feel, hear and smell it. "They do not seem broken to me, and so are _not_ of your people. The Broken are Watchers, so you will _watch_! Sort later."

Unwilling or unable to win against the larger, louder leader, Britain simply looked down in concession.

With a call to the unseen others above, Rors motioned the SGC Team to follow him. Pushing his way unnecessarily through Britain, who was moving to step aside, the tailed ruffian set out without another word or look.

Not liking the change in the welcome's tone, the Team was nonetheless more intrigued by the apparent community, and mystery, into which they stumbled. Checking his watch, O'Neill noted they had some time before they were due to check-in; and so, with some attention to the path they were taking from the Gate, they could afford a little deeper investigation.

As they filed past the still downtrodden Britain, he caught Jackson's arm, and whispered, "Daniel Jackson, my watch is done soon, with sunrise. Rors will likely leave you at the village center; I will find you there."

Noting a lightening in the sky in the direction toward which they seemed to be heading, Daniel nodded, before realizing he needed a more tactile acknowledgement. Clapping his hand briefly on Britain's, he agreed on his team's behalf.

* * *

Rors did not wait for them to say goodbyes at the Gate, or to sightsee in the new world, as he moved quickly down from the low, rugged mountain and across a slightly less stony plain. There was no obvious road or path to follow; so the newcomers had to pick their way carefully over rocks and rivulets as the approaching sunrise slowly lit their way.

They were not joined visibly by others; but could occasionally hear and glimpse figures out to either side. Though he never turned to confirm they were keeping up, the unrelenting Rors clearly had them on the move under careful watch.

Finally, as enough light had dawned, the SGC team could see two notable features beyond the greenish sky itself: First, a small, low collection of structures atop the low hill they seemed to be making for; the village, presumably. And the silhouettes of tall, sphere-topped spires reaching upward in the distance in various directions.

Drawing closer and with better light, they could finally see that the hilltop town was indeed a small, simple agrarian town surrounded by a hardy stone and stick stockade. It was only remarkable for the wide variety of architectural styles present. Using the same basic local materials, the inhabitants had clearly built out the hamlet in extremely varied styles: domed huts, rectangular cottages, A-frames, even burrowed holts.

Rors had paused at the gate, likely to gather them for easier management in the town. Indeed, a half-dozen motley forms caught up to them from all sides; their escorts closed in for tighter keeping now that they had reached home.

Not giving the upright, hardscrabble gecko the chance to reset the tone, O'Neill also demonstrated that he'd not made the march inattentive to the situation. "So let me get this straight: From time to time, people and animals come through the Stargate to join you all here on Menagerie. Who sends them and why?"

"Does not matter," Rors dismissed, adding a "don't care" to O'Neill's list of options. "We must survive, and can do best when we work as one."

"An admirable and apparently successful strategy, Rors," Jackson chimed in, hoping some pragmatism of the flattery would gain them something as they were led through the gate without further conversation.

The first building inside the fence stood out from the others beyond it, in that it was severely dilapidated and considerably more patchwork in comparison to others. And in front of it, a figure with a missing arm, and another with an obvious facial disfigurement, scurried inside at their approach.

In contrast, the other villagers appeared entirely able-bodied. And while most were human-appearing, the townspeople were racially diverse and included a number of visibly non-human species. None seem the least bit surprised by or interested in the newcomers' arrival.

Sensing the imminent shift from chaperoned travel to whatever was next, Carter tried to gather a little more information to help them make sense of it all. "Has anyone every tried to use the DHD—the device with symbols on it, to activate the Gate from here and leave?"

Rors did not stop his meander through the few streets, as residents hurried to make space for him to pass. "Leavings only hurt the community, and so is forbidden. This now is home. You ask many questions, as newcomers do. You will accept in time."

They stepped into an opening among several buildings, where several narrow alleys seemed to intersect. While not large, what looked a few market stalls, and a well and pump suggested that this was the town square.

Leading them to the cistern, as Britain had predicted, the reptile turned and spoke tersely, "I have much to do. Remain here until someone comes for you." Without further anything, he headed down a side path, and left them to face the passing glances of the busy locals.

O'Neill waved after him, and awkwardly at a few passers-by who quickly passed by. "Well, I guess that's the extent of the welcome wagon."

"Have you noticed the villagers?" asked Jackson immediately, not able to wait any longer to compare notes with his colleagues. "They're from a number of different species. The Goa'uld seem to be collecting beings from various worlds…"

"But Britain said it was the _Germans_ who took his granny. They found the Gate after World War One."(1) O'Neill pointed out.

"But the Germans never knew what it was or how to use it, and had no DHD anyway," Carter reminded.

"Right," Jackson ran with the history lesson, forgetting his original query. "Catherine's father didn't get it working until well after the second World War.(2) Britain made it sound like his grandmother was taken _during _a War; she and he didn't know that whichever World War it was, was long over."

Carter interjected more strenuously, "And, where would the Germans have gotten all the non-human species we're seeing?" She nodded surreptitiously toward a flop-earred, three-legged couple that hopped past.

"Perhaps a Goa'uld posing as a Ger-man had a way to activate the Gate, and abducted the grandmother from Earth, and the others from their worlds?" Teal'c suggested factually.

"The Goa'uld and the Nazis would've gotten along well…," Jack nodded.

"But we have no other evidence that the Goa'uld were operating on Earth that recently," Carter stressed.

"Seth was in Washington state until months ago,"(3) Teal'c reminded.

"But he was busy building a following for himself there, not colonizing other planets," said Jackson. "He didn't have a Gate anyway; so we're back to no gate."

"What about the second Gate?"(4) Carter decided to push the idea to the extreme, rather than fight it openly.

"It's in Antarctica, not London. And it had been frozen over for millennia when we found it."

Carter nodded, large-eyed as he made her point for her.

"Third gate?" O'Neill attempted to blow both their minds.

"I'm guessing they'd cut their losses after the Egyptians," Jackson dismissed.

"So if it wasn't the Germans or the Goa'uld in the World Wars with the Stargate…," Carter pulled them all along.

"That leaves… Professor Peacock in the study with the wrench?"

Both Jackson and Carter shot Jack a look, as Teal'c raised an eyebrow at the reference he understood enough only to judge it negatively.

Attempting to recover from the failed humor bomb, O'Neill summarized where the whimsical logic tour had left them. "Seriously, then we have some other aliens plucking people off the planet in the last 60 years in some other way. Hammond's gonna _love_ that report."

Continuing to think aloud as he inspected the nearby tools and textiles, the anthropologist clarified, "Well, Britain didn't say that his grandmother was taken away through a _gate_, or even that she got here through one."

"That would sidestep the Earth 'Gate issues."

"But Britain seemed unsurprised that other humans are still coming through," Jackson continued. "He thought that we were just the latest batch. Which means someone's been operating on Earth, by Gate or otherwise, much more recently than we previously had known."

"Didn't I just say that?" O'Neill contributed while sniffing at a ladle from a well bucket.

Teal'c maintained his stoic observation with clear attention to his team's analysis. "Or, the humans have been pulled from worlds other than Earth. Britain seemed unaware that your world's conflict was long concluded; and so it would seem no one with that knowledge has joined the community since his grandmother. More likely, the other arrivals have been from any of a number of other worlds where the System Lords are still extracting people and resources. The technology level of this village is largely consistent with what we have encountered in those cases."

"I don't know," Carter contradicted, "it may not have been Goa'uld at all. Look at those…" She offered a pair of field binoculars she'd been using to look beyond the square, and pointed to one of tall spires visible above one of the buildings. "There are several of them scattered around the area. And I noticed what looked like the silhouettes of others farther out as the sun came up this morning."

"Anyone recognize these?" O'Neill asked as they each took a turn.

"They are not of any Goa'uld design I know," stated Teal'c.

"No apparent markings or symbols," observed Jackson, as he turned toward one further away.

"They're spaced and positioned like observation cameras," Carter reported.

"You think someone's watching the settlement, these people? Societal 'voyeurs'?" asked Jackson.

"Well, if it's not the Germans or the Goa'uld, then who could it be?"

"You two think this is some sort of interplanetary reality television show?" Jack asked, with clear doubt in his voice.

"Might it not be a collection? Like your zoological parks?" Teal'c suggested.

"Which means we need to figure out who the Zookeepers are."

"The name itself, 'Menagerie,' is French for a cage," added Daniel, as the idea seemed to catch on among them.

A familiar voice called out to them, "My grandmum spoke French; she suggested the name."

They turned to see Britain approaching, with a clear familiarity with the streets of the village, despite being unable to see them.

Having apparently overheard enough of their conversation to find and identify them, Britain stepped up beside Jackson, and continued, answering their surprised and impressed expressions. "Other residents call it other things; there's been no need for any single name as it is simply where we are, not where we're from. And as you're now here, did Rors assign you housing?"

O'Neill stared at him, as if trying to figure out his out-of-place helpfulness, and whether he truly couldn't see anything. "No. He just sort of showed us in and left us here…"

Jackson explained they'd taken his advice. "We waited here as you asked."

Clearly pleased, Britain's face darkened a little as he shared what he felt would be less popular. "We have no spare spaces at the moment. Usually we only receive newcomers when there is space for them in the village. This is something new for us. Still, if you are willing, you are welcome to stay with the Broken until you can construct your own or something opens elsewhere. It is not much, and will not bring you any prestige among the others, but we would be pleased and honored to show you what hospitality we can."

"Well, that's awfully nice," exaggerated the Colonel, "but I don't think we'll be-"

Interrupting, Daniel shot Jack a harsh look, and placed his hand on their host's shoulder. "Thank you, Britain, we accept and greatly appreciate the offer."

Smiling, Britain nodded them to follow, and headed back toward the gate through which they'd entered.

As they walked, Jackson sticking close to their guide, as Teal'c took up the rear, O'Neill whispered to Carter, "Why do I get the sense that he still doesn't think we're leaving? Ever?"

* * *

**NOTES**

1. _Stargate_, the movie, established that a German-led dig discovered the Stargate in Egypt in 1928.

2. Episode 110, _The Torment of Tantalus_, established that the first successful transport—Catherine Langford's beau, Ernest Littlefield—wasn't until 1945.

3. Episode 302, _Seth_.

4. Episode 117, _Solitudes_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Stargate SG-1: Broken**

by mirwalker

* * *

**Chapter 3**

With minimal use of his staff as a cane, Britain confidently led the Team back through the cramped allies of the Menagerie village, and finally into the ramshackle building beside the main gate, that they'd noted on the way in. Ducking through its low door, they found the inside to be an even greater composite of materials—clearly an extreme example of the mixed design and found object construction apparent in the village overall. Despite its cramped quarters, and scattered holes through which sun and sky were visible, it was nonetheless remarkably neat and clean.

And Britain's movement through the small common space indicated a deep familiarity with its layout and levels, especially as he'd set aside the staff just inside the door. He spoke to two non-human, and apparently injured, inhabitants, using two very different sets of sounds. The one with obvious eyes looked nervously at the visitors; but both seemed to respond agreeably to Britain, and exited quickly. A few other figures lurked furtively down a few side chambers, more fearful than threatening.

Teal'c and O'Neill looked a little suspiciously at the unintelligible communication and activity; but Jackson didn't give them a chance to question their host to those points. He asked instead, "Britain, how many languages do you speak, exactly?"

As he replied nonchalantly, their host set a shoulder bag on the table near the fireplace, and pulled out a few handfuls of ragged-looking plants. "Only a few more than most here: forty-seven. …If you count Tsalik and Tsalin separately. They're identical in every way but name, but the two clans insist they are different."

Sam's eyes grew wide at a number larger than her own count, and certainly beyond her imagination. "There are 46 species here?"

"No," laughed Britain, as he removed the threadbare fabric that was apparently his outerwear cloak. "Some species speak several different languages, especially we humans. There are perhaps two dozens of separate species living in Menagerie, and many more wild, beyond the village."

He moved back toward them, his homecoming tasks accomplished. "I am afraid that we only have one bed large enough for two. Colonel and Major, as the parents, it will of course be yours. Daniel Jackson and Teal'c will have to sleep separately…"

The reaction was immediate, though the Colonel was first to voice it. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. The Major and I aren't sleeping together? I mean, we aren't. We don't." He turned to his team, "What makes him think we're sleeping together?"

Jackson held up his hand to head off the spiraling discomfort. "Thank you, Britain. I am also curious what made you think that we would be sleeping in pairs?"

"Newcomers almost always arrive in mate pairs. O'Neill and Carter both have titles; and so seemed together and of higher status. Daniel and Teal'c had no such titles, and so were together by default."

Only slightly mollified on the fraternization front, O'Neill still smarted at the age distinction. "And the "parent" thing? Where'd that come from?"

"Daniel said he is 'Jackson,' naming him clearly as 'son of Jack,' who is you. Major Carter is your mate, and so his likely mother. It is obvious; is it not? Have I misunderstood your naming and mating customs?" He looked worried at having clearly made some sort of mistake, and given some offense.

O'Neill pointed adamantly, despite the gestures' meaning nothing to his audience. "He is _not _my son. Carter and I are _not _together. And…" he tilted his head toward Teal'c and Daniel, "you two aren't, are you?"

Teal'c merely raised an eyebrow, as Carter and Jackson smirked at the astute, if off, logic.

Daniel's amusement turned to admiration for their host's perception, "You deduced all that social structure just from our names? Have you studied anthropology?"

Britain still looked embarrassed and remorseful at his faux pas. "I do not know that word, but as we have no schools here, I know that I've not studied it. I have simply had to learn patterns in order to sort newcomers well. But I have made some mistake here, clearly. Please accept my apology, and explain what I have misunderstood?"

The front door flew open at that moment; and Rors stood at the threshold, clearly choosing not to enter. Everyone jumped, and the background figures in the house hid away entirely at the sudden arrival.

Rors spoke to Britain, who had turned to face him without the same anxious reaction. "I would speak with their leader."

Britain turned his head toward Jackson, as if relaying the message.

Jackson demurred, not wanting to call out anyone's mistakes in front of the assertive reptile. "Britain, you were a little off on the family structure, but you did deduce the rank system correctly. Jack-Colonel O'Neill is actually in command of our team; Major Carter is his second."

Because of, or ignorant of, the introductions, Rors eyed O'Neill menacingly, and Carter hungrily; but said only, "Ohn-Eel will come with me," and turned on his spurred heels immediately.

O'Neill moved to follow, more to challenge his order-dropping, than to obey; but Carter touched his arm. "Sir, we probably shouldn't split up too much. I'll go with you."

His flash of irritation having passed quickly, he adapted her advice, "No; Teal'c will come with me. Because none of us is _together_…" He glared at Britain as he and Teal'c exited carefully, but casually to see what the leader lizard wanted.

Britain called out softly to a corner of the house, "Utuvien, boe bedich go O'Neill a Teal'c."

A young woman, wearing a plainly decorated eye patch, emerged from a behind a dark curtain, and headed out dutifully in the direction the others had gone.

"She will keep an eye on them for me," Britain explained. "Again, I am sorry for any embarrassment I caused to O'Neill or any of you; I meant no disrespect."

"None taken," Jackson forgave, again trying to smooth out the ruffled feathers, as was his wont. "It's just that relationships between officers, people with military titles like Colonel and Major, are not permitted. And two males, such as Teal'c and myself, are not a mate-able pair."

Britain nodded, considering some and flatly dismissing other parts of the explanation. "I did not know your custom among officers, and I know examples to the contrary of your sex-mating rules. A number of species have arrived in Menagerie in same-sex or sexless pairs, even one trio when I was very young. Besides, relationships can be more than the ability to make offspring."

With an 'oh, snap' look from Carter, Jackson had to bite his lip and nod. "True enough. Jack is just a little, sensitive. About the age thing…"

As he did, an older man and teenaged girl brought Carter and Jackson cups of drink.

"Thank you," said Carter to the young woman, nodding and sipping from the cup once Jackson had demonstrated that trust.

"Marisel cannot hear you, Major," Britain corrected. "She is deaf. Hamdi can, however."

Jackson noticed the male was missing part of one arm. He and Carter made guilty and knowing eye contact, while making efforts to show they appreciated and enjoyed the slightly floral-tasting water.

As the two water-bearers drew away, Jackson felt it was finally as good a time as any, to inquire about the increasingly clear distinction they had noticed. "Britain, I noticed that Rors referred to you as 'broken.' You invited us to stay here with you and the other 'broken,' and it seems that everyone here has a disability, a handicap…"

"Again, I don't know those words," Britain admitted, waving them in the direction of two tattered chairs, as he settled on a bench at the table. "But, if by them you mean crippled, mute, deaf and the like, then yes, we among those in Menagerie are those who are not whole, who are missing parts and capabilities. We are the Broken."

"Rors doesn't seem to treat you very well, or to hold you or them in very high esteem," Carter added her observation.

"This community struggles for its survival, Major, against the weather, beasts and the challenges amongst its own very different residents. The others see us as one of those challenges, as a drain on the community. We Broken have that treatment also against which to struggle." While sad, Britain seemed to accept the situation at face value; it was their reality.

Jackson sat forward in his seat, struggling to understand, or accept, the social structures he was realizing. "But you were standing guard at the Gate when we arrived, and it seemed to be on some type of regular watch schedule."

"You too are observant to deduce our sentry customs so quickly!" Britain returned the earlier compliment. "Yes, we Broken serve as the Watchers at the Gate as you call it."

Puzzled, Carter asked, "Britain, no offense, but you can't see. How can you make a good 'watcher?'"

"We Broken learn early to be fast judges of strangers' moods and intention; and so greet newcomers to quickly sense their fit with or threat to the community."

The young woman returned with a sheepish smile, and tugged at Britain's sleeve. He took her hand to follow, explaining, "If you'll excuse me, I will check on your bedding. Please make yourselves at home."

As they moved to the next room, Jackson stood, set his cup on the table and examined the handicrafts neatly placed around the room.

"Whaddaya think?" asked Carter, more curious about the larger picture than the pans and textiles.

"It's whacked is what I think," he replied immediately, without looking away from his curious inspections. "They use the villagers with handicaps as sentries at the Gate, to make first contact with whomever or whatever comes through. As if their disability gives them mystical insights into the character of arrivals. It's a classic overcompensation myth by able-bodied groups to make themselves feel better about their discomfort with others' disabilities."

"Tactically, they're also the most expendable," she pointed out.

"What?!"

"Think about it," she insisted, stating, not supporting the position. "In addition to this belief about supersensory intuition, they're also the least important should something unfriendly come through. Why waste a good warrior or strong farmer on guard duty, when somebody already perceived to be undercontributing can take that initial risk instead?"

He finally looked at her. "Am I the only one here the least bit bothered by that kind of savage survival of the fittest system?"

"I'm not saying I agree with it, Daniel. I'm just saying from a purely survivalist point of view, it makes some sense. And it fits with the larger situation here... Someone sends mate-pairs from a series of different species from a number of different worlds here over a period of time, and leaves those observation towers around to keep an eye on 'the zoo.' The 'Keepers watch as the community has to adapt to the new arrivals—figure them out, accept them and assimilate them, or defends itself against them. Including them or exiling them, it's a big Darwinistic experiment in inter-species cooperative living."

"It's not these people; it's this set-up that's broken," he growled, hands on his hips.

From the street outside, they could hear a commotion begin and grow closer. As if on cue, Britain returned; and they all headed outside to investigate.

Teal'c and O'Neill were coming up the little street, with a growing crowd and a group of angry heavies in tow. O'Neill shouted back to the unhappy men and creatures following, as if continuing an argument, "Well, you tell him, we can and we _will _be going through the Gate!"

As the grumbles and whispers continued to move their way, Britain took Daniel by the arm, and whispered to him, "No one ever goes _into _the Ring; we have seen that its touch brings death. Like the village leaders before him, Rors allows no one to waste their life in such a useless act."

"So our intention to go home is a contradiction of Rors' authority; he'll lose face?"

"Rors' face will be fine," Britain corrected. "It is yours we should be concerned with if you attempt to step into the Ring."

Jackson spoke quickly, trying to explain SGC's differing experience. "We travel through the rings regularly. Except for that initial opening, it's perfectly safe."

As O'Neill walked up, Britain nodded in non-disagreement, and reframed the conflict. "Then you will prove Rors wrong, and that will diminish the community's confidence in his leadership."

Not attending to the nuances of social order, the Colonel waved a remarkably advanced piece of technology toward Carter, catching them up on what he'd discovered in his brief audience with the lizard king. "Apparently, whatever people are carrying when they get snatched, they get to bring with them here. Most of it is pretty primitive or doesn't work anymore; but I traded them a flashlight, some glowsticks and a few MREs for some metal samples and this welder thingy." He handed it to Carter. "Take a look. One of the villagers says that when it's working correctly it will connect almost any two substances."

Looking it over, she connected it back to the overall situation. "That rules out the Goa'uld as our Zookeepers; they'd never let a dominated world hang on to technology like this."

Teal'c reported that, "The villagers are in need of some basic medical supplies and nutritional supplements."

"You're thinking some kind of trade relationship?" Carter looked to O'Neill.

Jackson added to the equation, "Jack, just looking around, I think we have a lot more to offer than they do, and there are some social issues here that we need to consider." He dipped his head toward the obvious henchmen still lurking at the edge of the crowd that the earlier shouting had attracted.

The Colonel pointed to the welder, "Still, it's worth considering if they've got more of these. Let's head back with these samples to show Hammond; we can bring back some humanitarian aid as a goodwill gesture, while he thinks it over…"

Jackson stepped back slightly, looking out at the loitering crowd, "Actually, Jack, if you don't mind, I'd like to remain. I think Sam has a pretty good idea about my social concerns; and I'd like to stay and study this community a little more. It is a unique mix of species; we could learn a great deal about each one and how they interact."

Reminding them again his ears worked well, Britain volunteered, "I would be happy to help Daniel learn more about our community and customs."

"Whatever…," O'Neill conceded. "Teal'c, Carter, let's go…"

As they turned toward the gate, Rors pushed his way through the crowd to block O'Neill's path. "I said that you will NOT go into the Ring."

Not missing a beat, the Colonel resumed his speaking back loudly, "And I said that I don't take orders from you." Gesturing to his own face, he stage whispered, "You know, I could bring you some lotion for the skin… thing…"

"Jack…," pled their peacemaker, as Carter and Teal'c both tensed at their weapons.

"Uh-uh, Daniel. He puffed his chest scales first…"

One of Rors' goons stepped toward them menacingly; and the Earth weapons were drawn instantly. The villagers pulled away from the opposing sides, but most did not leave, not without knowing how the challenge to the Menagerie leader played out.

Britain quietly waved some of the Broken back into the house, knowing this would go least well for those least able to flee or defend themselves. Jackson noticed this shepherding, and that Britain then returned to stand beside him, not removing himself from the danger, or abandoning his new guest-friends.

The standoff raged for a few moments, until Rors snarled and snickered with a solution he likely hoped would solve all the issues facing his leadership. "We do not need newcomers who have broken minds. Ohn-Eel may kill himself if he wishes, but the others will remain." He stepped aside, and gestured the Colonel to pass through the town gate.

But O'Neill shook his head, "All or nothing, scale-face."

Rors looked the SGC team over, seeming to again assess the threats and rewards they offered. Showing he was more than a bully, he cut the difference again and pointed at Teal'c, "I will allow you to take the quiet one. The many-eyed and the female will stay."

Both O'Neill and Carter moved to object, but Rors cut them off, explaining his logic for all those present. "_If_ you are correct, Ohn-Eel about the Ring as a… a tunnel, then this will make sure that you return for your people. But _when_ you find you are wrong, then we do not waste her beauty and his smarts on your craze."

O'Neill clenched his jaw, appreciating that this guy was smarter than he'd originally believed.

"It's OK, sir," Carter said quietly beside him. "With that kind of attitude, I'd feel more comfortable staying here to prove him wrong and to keep an eye on Daniel. Besides, I can learn more about their technology, and maybe something else about the 'Keepers."

Not seeing a less bloody exit strategy at the moment, O'Neill exhaled, and set his conditions on the compromise. "Fine; suit yourself. Keep your radios on, and we'll check back in a few."

With eye contact letting her know he meant it, and with a "behave" glance at Daniel, he and Teal'c headed off toward the Gate. Once they had dropped out of sight below the rise of the hill, the crowd began dispersing, and Britain led Carter and Jackson back inside the Broken house.

With a lusty glance after the light-haired female, Rors nodded one of his hairier cronies to follow the Ring-going pair. With a grunt of his own, he headed back into the village, glaring at a few lingering residents as he did.

The town gate closed behind the final traveler; and the watches continued all around.

* * *

**NOTES**

Points for anyone who can identify the entirely out-of-canon language Britain speaks to the one-eyed woman… Bonus points for correctly translating. Anyone?


	4. Chapter 4

**Stargate SG-1: Broken**

by mirwalker

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Major Carter couldn't decide whether the old man with one arm was just bad at being inconspicuous as he followed her, or was not trying to hide his constant, attentive presence in the first place. He hadn't acknowledged when she smiled and waved to him at one point; but, if he'd been sent along by Britain to keep an eye on her, for her sake, as she thought he might, he probably wouldn't want to appear too cozy, in case others were watching. She too was keeping an eye out for visitors from the less friendly faction in the village; but if they were following, they were doing a much better job at remaining unseen.

Taking a little comfort from Hamdi's consistent vigilance, and not seeing him as a threat whatever his motivations, she continued her inspection of the tall spires she'd attributed to the Menagerie "Zookeepers." As she walked out the distance to the next nearest one, she reminded herself that this was all just a hypothesis on her and Daniel's part: That the sleek columns just seemed too out-of-place given the motley collection of beings and buildings on this planet, and too systematically placed around that the settlement to be anything but a means of observing the occasionally augmented, and clearly manufactured, community.

She approached the steeply angled base of the thin tower, counting out steps from the previous one; and confirmed it was exactly the same distance as between the others she'd visited. Like the others it was a deep black—no attempt to camouflage it against the scrub, rocks or sky. It was seamless, appearing to emerge from the ground and reach organically many meters skyward as if a single piece of whatever material it was made of. And she couldn't tell that either—despite trying to scratch off a sample with her knife, she hadn't even been able to mark the alloy, ceramic, or whatever it was. No energy readings, sounds, vibrations or any other indication of activity—just the smooth, matte finish surface gracefully arcing up to the bulb on top.

She needed additional equipment, and to get up to that… platform, if she was going to learn any more. For now, she pulled out her binoculars to map the dozen or so towers she could see; maybe a visual of their layout would provide some additional insight on their purpose or source. More immediately, she could see Britain showing Daniel more of the village's scraggly farmlands…

* * *

In between Carter's inspections and the village itself, Jackson and the blind leader of "the Broken" walked past a second set of cultivated fields. The mixture of plants in the sparse rows looked similar to those in the first set they'd visited earlier; Britain had explained that not a lot grew in the rocky soil. Like the inhabitants of the village, only the hardiest of plants survived; and the Broken got only the scraps of that scrappy growth.

They passed a communal kitchen, a very rudimentary blacksmith—largely repairing existing pieces or recycling them to new uses, and a small, empty livestock pen—unused since the town's only beasts of burden had died years before. For every question Daniel had, and there were many, Britain cheerfully provided whatever explanation, history, context or insight he could.

Eventually, they climbed another low rise beside the village, and sat down where Daniel could describe various features near and far, and Britain could name or explain them from memory.

"I'm just so impressed at how well the settlement has survived and melded the various cultures into a cooperative whole," Jackson summarized after he'd asked about everything he could think to ask. "I mean I know it hasn't been smooth or easy, but it's still quite an impressive bit of survival and social management…"

He turned to see Britain's eyes closed, and his head beginning to bob forward.

"Britain. Britain?" he asked, with a nudge.

Starting slightly, his guide sat up groggily, "Hmm? I am sorry, Daniel. You were saying?"

"I was talking too much, is what I was doing," he regretted, standing to head back. "I have kept you up way too late after your overnight watch; you must be exhausted."

"I am tired, but happy to share with you what I know. Thankfully, I do not have watch this night, and so can remain up with you." He let Daniel help him get to his feet, and waited to see where Daniel wished to head next.

"I'll bet we're all a little weary; it'll be getting late on Earth now too. We could all use a rest."

His radio crackled, as Carter sought him out, "Daniel?"

"I'm here, Sam. What's up?"

"I've done all I can with the equipment I've got, and just checked in with Colonel O'Neill. If we're OK, he'd like us to hang tight for a few more hours, until he and Teal'c can get back with more gear, some supplies and further instructions."

"Alright," he acknowledged, seeing that Britain was losing his struggle to stay alert. "We've covered a lot of ground here; no great revelations. I think we'll head back to the house for a little rest…"

"Sounds good; will head that way myself."

With a knowing pat to his host's back, Jackson offered, "Let's get you some sleep. If you take my arm, I think I can get us back."

* * *

With a quick bite of simple foods—Jackson and Carter didn't want to refuse their hosts' hospitality, but also didn't want to take from their meager food stores, the Stargate Command pair chose to sit up at the table as Britain grudgingly lay down for some sleep, and the other Broken went about their daily tasks. Talking quietly, the visitors compared notes while they waited for an update from Cheyenne Mountain.

"There's no apparent access points on the exteriors," Sam shared, showing Daniel a few photos taken on her pocket camera. "And there's no response or reaction to physical or radio contact. And with the equipment I have with me, I can't detect any energy readings coming from them—no apparent power source, no transmissions. As far as I can tell, they're ornamental."

"But you don't believe that."

"Not for a minute. Someone is sending beings here on a regular basis, and so has an active interest in what goes on here. Britain's told you that none of those sent seem to have deserved banishment; they don't know why they were sent. So unless the Keepers are here among the villagers or watching from orbit, those towers make for the best observation network."

Jackson nodded, "And beyond the towers, I know that Britain and I had a tail the whole time; I'll bet you did as well. So Rors can apparently spare at least a few sets of hands for surveillance over sustenance, and needs to- Which suggests he doesn't have any direct access to the towers."

"Britain sent Hamdi to keep an eye on me too," Carter smiled. "So, whatever intent the Keepers and Rors have in watching, I think we've found a vigilant friend in Britain too."

Jackson looked over to the corner where Britain had curled up, handy enough to keep an ear out if needed, and leaving another bed open if his guests desired to sleep more comfortably.

Carter smiled, and leaned back against a pillar, suggesting she did intend to get a little shut-eye. "Well, while we wait, I think we're as safe as we can be, here in this house." She closed her eyes, but left her hand on the weapon across her lap, just in case.

* * *

Thick, but dry, clouds blew in during the afternoon, bringing an early twilight to the area, compounded by blowing dust. Having shocked the on-duty watcher by emerging from the Ring, not dead as had been expected, O'Neill and Teal'c loaded up all they could carry off the MALP that returned with them, and locked down the rest on it. The semi-darkness also didn't keep them from noticing that they were followed on their way back to the town; they assumed the tail reported that they headed directly for the Broken house.

They entered the firelit room with a polite knock, to find Carter sitting at the table, wearing one and examining another battered alien headgear. Behind her, Britain had Jackson by the throat with one hand, as Daniel clutched his arm and made guttural, choking sounds.

His face contorted with effort, Britain sputtered, "Na Chappa 'ai. Kree! Kek na shol'va. Chel nac."(1)

Dropping his armload of supplies, O'Neill leapt in, pulled Britain off Jackson, threw him to the floor, while shouting at his second in command, "Dammit, Carter! Aren't you paying attention?"

From around the room, several Broken appeared with pulled knives and other sundry weapons, some defensively circling Britain on the floor, others challenging the returned SG-1.

Not gasping for breath, Jackson joined the protective ring around Britain, squatting to help him and chastise his own leader as he did. "He's learning Goa'uld, Jack; not trying to strangle me. Jeesh, give us some credit. Britain, are you all right? I'm so sorry."

Speaking more graciously than he looked or sounded, Britain assured, "I am fine."

Knowing his people had rallied to him, Britain patted and nodded to them; and they cast dirty looks at O'Neill as most backed away and filtered out of the room. Even then, it was clear they did not intend to go far.

Reaching for cloth to tend Britain's scraped elbow, Jackson resumed his lecture, "That really was not necessary, Jack. And it's not going to help make us any more popular with the locals."

With a look of apology to the room, and a quick, audible "Sorry" to Britain, O'Neill resumed his more cautious tone, "PR's your department, Doc. Besides, I think I've already ruffled some pretty big feathers in town by still being alive."

"Rors?" Carter asked, both to confirm there wasn't some new antagonist in the mix, and to encourage the shift from the tension within the room.

"He had us followed to and from the Gate," reported Teal'c. "I would guess that even now we are under observation."

"Not in this house; he has no friends here," insisted Britain, both from pride in his people, as well as to remind them he was still a participant in the impromptu meeting.

"Well if the alpha toad feels a little threatened by my natural charm and charisma… I'll just have to buy some more points in the polls while we're here." O'Neill began to look through the duffles he and Teal'c had brought with them. "Hammond's occupied with some lingering cleanup on Mayweather's rogue team;(2) and so wants to us to continue observing for a bit, to see what we can find out about those observation stations and the Zookeepers. We spent the day gathering some additional scanning equipment for you, Carter. And we brought some supplies to distribute or, better yet, trade for some of their more unique technology."

Carter's eyes lit up at a kit of scanning equipment he handed her, "We could use the cover of dark now to do some initial readings on the area and those towers."

"Sounds good. Let's go!" O'Neill ordered, eager to move past his unfortunate entrance, to productive actions.

Finished doing what he could for the grateful, but still on-edge, Britain, Jackson declined, "I'm going to stay here and… mend relations with our cultural liaison here. Britain and I could also do some initial sorting of the other supplies; he'll know where they're best used."

"Surprise, surprise," O'Neill murmured to himself, before announcing to all, "We'll check back in after a recon round, and maybe get some shuteye until we hear from the General."

As the rest of the SG-1 team exited, Carter got a nod from Daniel that he was indeed OK, that they were all OK.

Once several Broken had slipped out after them, probably to continue watch over them, Daniel turned to Britain still standing tensely beside him, "I'm sorry again, Britain. Jack…"

Britain waved him off, "You don't have to apologize for him. Again. I'm not surprised, and I have endured much worse than a scraped arm." He turned to the fireplace, literally shifting the subject, "As I don't have watch tonight, it is my turn to make evening meal for the house. Usually, Utuvien would help me, but she will again follow your friends for me. While I hate to ask a guest to prepare his own meal, would you mind assisting me? We can look at the supplies afterward."

Appreciating the return to whatever normal they had settled into in less than a day, Daniel smiled, "Of course; I'd be happy to."

At Britain's direction, they started the simple meal-making: boiling water, cutting limp plants, adding sparse seasonings, stirring. As the worked, Daniel continued their conversations, sharing more information and learning more about this new friend. "Do you always have night watches?"

"Yes. The lack of light makes no difference to me."

"Touché," he grinned. "You know, you take very good care of the other 'Broken'; and it's clear they look up to you as their leader in many ways. How did you come into that responsibility?"

"Not by bullying or monopolizing resources like Rors, if that's what you're thinking. We have to take care of one another because he and the others won't. Grandmum stressed the importance of doing our part, maintaining a proper home and remaining strong despite the situation."

"That's very British of her and you."

"Thank you," the namesake beamed.

"You've mentioned your grandmother on several occasions. But you haven't talked about parents or other family…"

Britain's smile faded, as he handed Daniel the single handful of dried meat scraps he'd diced. "My parents were killed not long after my birth, when a pair of predators came through the Gate and got to the village. I never knew them. My grandmum raised me after…"

"My parents also died when I was young," Daniel shared, feeling the need to reciprocate the confidence, and totally at ease in doing so with Britain. "I was raised by foster parents; my grandfather wasn't able to take care of me."(3)

Britain seemed a little surprised at the admission of hardship from the new friend; but also was enjoying the personal, versus survival, conversation for a change. "My grandmum never talked about my grandfather, though I discovered through the years that her mating with him was not by choice."

Daniel froze in place, and no small horror crept back into his voice, "Are you saying that she was raped?"

Britain confirmed with a practiced realism, "I know that there have been inhabitants here for at least seven generations, if not more. Menagerie was not, and is still not, always a safe or fair place."

"I can see that in how you and the others here are treated."

"It is the way of things for us," Britain shrugged. "We serve the community as best we can, stay out of their way beyond that, and take care of ourselves. Sometimes I think it is better that I can't see their stares any more."

"'Any more?'," Daniel startled. "You weren't born blind?"

"No. I could see until my dozenth year, when my sight began to fade. Within a change of seasons, I could see nothing," he recounted, as if it was just another fact in the recipe. "Can you please hand me the chipped yellow pot, hanging about a half an arm's length to the left of the mantle?"

Daniel turned to find the pot exactly where and as described. "So if you've been blind for more than half your life, how did you know where that pan was?"

"I run a proper kitchen, where everything has its place. And it helps all of us, whatever our challenge, to have things in set places where we know to find or avoid them. Beyond that, I keep track in my head of everything and everyone that comes in and out of the house and village…"

Daniel chuckled to himself at why he was still surprised by his friend's intimate knowledge of his own home. "That's incredible! You have an eidetic memory, an amazing linguistic capacity… Is there anything you don't do?"

"It's not amazing, Daniel," Britain pushed back, with a humble blush at the novel adoration. "It's necessary."

"You're right; I'm sorry... It's just that you _do_ do quite a lot, and you're remarkably upbeat about the situation. No offense, but if I'd been orphaned on a strange planet, lost my sight and was stuck doing the dirty work for the village bully, I don't think I'd be so chipper."

"Stiff upper lip, Daniel. Is that not how we British are still on Earth?"

"Yes, I guess; on the whole. But still, don't you get frustrated?"

"Of course I do; I can't _see_," Britain reminded, finally allow a little emotion into his voice. "I get tired of getting lost, or fumbling for things, and for missing out on the colors of things. But, I'm not helpless; I've made a good life for myself. It's more others than blindness that brings me grief. I'm treated as stupid and worthless. They ignore me outright, or worse yet, they presume or pretend to help me—grab and lead, or shove me, treat me like a child."

His venting to a safe outsider shifted to a confession to a trusted insider. "That's where you're different. You offered your arm, and asked if you could help. You treat me, all of us, like we matter. No one's done that before."

Daniel played down his respect, "It's the polite, friendly and right thing to do, Britain. I'm sorry that is so exceptional for you." He took a moment to realize what else the disability and leadership role, in Menagerie, meant for Britain. "So, I'm guessing that you don't have a 'mate' here to treat you nicely?"

Britain blushed again, before returning to his matter-of-fact explanation. "No… I am older than all the Broken by far, save Hamdi, and who else would have me? Neither our company, nor our lineage is much sought after here."

Daniel bumped against Britain's shoulder intentionally, "I think you undersell yourself, especially considering everything you've survived and accomplished. For you and the others. No condescension intended…"

The pot they'd been working over popped at that moment, splattering on Daniel's glasses, and causing him to jump suddenly.

"What's wrong?" Britain tensed, worried over what new trouble had arrived.

"Nothing. Just the stew, splattered on my glasses," he said, wiping off and sampling the broth. "I'm OK. Tasty!"

"You wear spectacles?" It was Britain's turn to be surprised at Daniel for a change.

Daniel confirmed with an "uh-huh;" and Britain reached out to touch them, to prove it to himself. "You are also… Broken?"

"Yes. I mean, no," he corrected, letting Britain feel the evidence of the commonality, while challenging the local value judgment on the need for them. "Britain, just because the body isn't perfect doesn't mean it's bad or broken. We just have to do things a little differently, that's all. Utuvien. Hamdi. You. Me…"

Though he obviously could not see Jackson, Britain nonetheless stared at him—in his direction at least—with open admiration. "I have not met anyone like you, Daniel Jackson. And I have no idea what you look like…" He reached out again, hesitantly, "May I… learn your face?"

His fingers quickly tapped the lenses themselves, causing both men to laugh a little. Daniel slipped off the glasses obligingly, happy to provide the small succor to this impressive person who'd done so much for himself and his people, despite such hardships, beyond the quick hospitality and friendship he'd shown to Daniel and the team in just last day.

Using both hands, Britain gently traced Jackson's face. Daniel closed his eyes, just in case; and felt the rough fingers scan some kind of picture of him into Britain's memory.

Both startled as the front door opened; and Utuvien led a smiling Carter in by the hand.

"Daniel?" Sam called out ahead of them, just catching the physical connection before Daniel's eyes fluttered opened, and Britain turned back to the supper preparations.

As the other guests and escorts filed in, Britain called out, "Dinner will be ready shortly, Major. Utuvien, please gather the others. I do hope you will all join us for evenmeal?"

Carter nodded, with a quick look at Daniel, and helped move the Earth packages to one side of the filling room. It seemed getting comfortable was now very much the order of business.

* * *

**NOTES**

1. FYI, these phrases actually translate as "To the Stargate! Attention! Death to the traitor. Very cool!" Taken from various episodes.

2. O'Neill pretended to retire from SGC to help expose these thieves of alien technology in _Shades of Grey_ (3.18)

3. We see Jackson's parents' death in Episode 2.04, _The Gamekeeper_; and we will learn a little more of his family history in Episode 3.21, _Crystal Skull_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Stargate SG-1: Broken**

by mirwalker

* * *

**Chapter 5**

After dinner, Carter and O'Neill had done another reconnaissance run to the nearest tower with the new equipment, without any success at learning more about it construction, purpose or origin. Teal'c and Jackson had helped Britain and the other Broken sort through the supplies; and these lowliest of Menageries society had impressed both SGC members with their remarkably generous intent to share equitably with the other villagers.

Respecting the local cycle, and not having slept much themselves, the team bunked down at the hovel afterward, taking turns being on watch in case their presence drew additional, aggressive reaction from the leader, who could not be happy about O'Neill and Teal'c's complete failure to die during Ring travel.

After an early breakfast, Carter, O'Neill and Teal'c sought out Rors in a public space, to make a show of the Ring's non-lethal, outgoing capabilities and the generosity of "Earth."

Hoping to make it seem less Broken–vs-Rors, Britain led Daniel outside the village again, to see more local culture and industry. Along the way, they continued their evening's conversation, sharing experiences about being raised by a grandparent, poor vision in puberty and a gift with languages. Thrilled to finally have someone else with knowledge of his fabled home planet, Britain constantly asked Daniel to compare the sights, sounds and especially smells of Menagerie to those of Earth. But for the moments of lightness and laughter, the tour could not help return, again and again to the primitive, if melded, technologies, barely sustenance agriculture, and clear caste divides of their shared here and now. It was all variations on the same inequities and eeking by. Only today, it all bothered Jackson even more.

"Britain, that's the fifth worksite we've visited this hour, without your getting so much as a greeting or acknowledgement. If it weren't for me, they wouldn't have even looked up. So they just ignore you entirely, and you're OK with that?"

"They rarely strike what they do not look at, Daniel," he reminded, appreciating the concern on his behalf, but seeing no benefit from belaboring it. "I do not seek their attention; it is never pleasant."

Resuming their sharing from the night before, Britain shifted the topic slightly and significantly, "What about you? Beyond your teammates, do you have someone special who looks after you? A mate?"

"I had a wife; but she was killed by the Goa'uld—the enemies we told you of last night."

"I am sorry," Britain offered honestly and simply, adding none of the common Earth niceties or know-how-you-feels. In his world, such loss of loved ones, even limbs, was expected and inevitable, if still saddening. "I didn't know my parents at all; but, sometimes, I still hurt over my grandmum's death. Even the death of my vision." Despite the painful subjects, he sighed and smiled, "I suppose life on Earth is not as perfect as my grandmum described all those years ago."

"It's far from perfect, Britain; but can be much less harsh that the situation here… In fact, I have to wonder why you give so much to this community that treats you so poorly. You guard the gate at tremendous physical risk, especially because of your blindness. I mean, pardon my bluntness, but you're pretty much sacrificed to anything unfriendly that comes through… And despite that, if they engage you or the others at all, it's to berate and belittle you; and still you provide their first line of defense and so many small but important functions for the community."

Britain scoffed as they continued to walk, "The relationship is not entirely one-sided, Daniel; we need each other. Because of our challenges, the Broken need the community to provide some things for us—food, protection. But that support does not come free; every member must contribute something for the community to survive as a whole. I have little else to provide to a community that needs contribution from all its members; no matter how badly the others treat us, they allow us to stay, which better guarantees some survival. If we didn't have something the others valued, like our lives as watchers and other odd jobs, we'd be cast out for being a drain on the community. And my vigilance isn't wasted, because where else would I be? What else would I be doing?" He gestured back to the various fields and fellow inhabitants, all he had in the worlds.

Sensing Daniel's continued dissatisfaction with the state of things, Britain took him by the arm and suggested, "Please don't take my doing it, as liking or preferring this. I wish we were better treated; I wish we all could do more than scrape by and have to react each time the Ring opens." A sly, embarrassed look passed over his face as he confided, "And now, I even wonder whether I might visit my namesake, as you have, now that the wars are over, and your Command has found us. Do you think-?"

He was cut off by the pounding of feet, as one of the Broken, whose name Daniel hadn't yet learned, ran up to them and whispered something breathlessly to Britain. With an alarmed look, Britain tugged urgently on Daniel's arm and turned toward the Stargate. "Your friends are attempting to enter the Ring again; there will be trouble…"

Daniel's radio barked as they jogged, "O'Neill to Jackson. We need you at the Gate ASAP."

* * *

In the Gate ravine, Rors and some armed followers surrounded the DHD, facing off against the remainder of SG-1, who had returned to and now circled the locked, but laden MALP.

"Look, 'Reptor, I'm going to give to the count of five for you and your little friends to get out of the way," O'Neill repeated.

But Rors was defiant. "You break our rules of the Ring. You insult our people and ways. You mingle with Broken. You would take our tools and buy our trust with your shiny gifts."

"We've made fair trades," countered Carter, more offer than argument. "And can provide more real help—food, medicine…"

"We meant no disrespect; we are learning and make mistakes just as any newcomer," Teal'c added, while coolly adjusting the grip on his staff weapon.

"You should not have come, and so now you will go," Rors hissed back, with nods from his militia. He waved to the supplies. "All these things, and the female, will stay as price for your trouble."

"If you don't want the help, you can just say so," O'Neill tried to offer. "But we're not leaving anything or anyone behind. That's not how we do things here, or anywhere."

"Our world; our rules. I am leader; what I say," Rors repeated. To demonstrate his command, he nodded to Anjal, one of his human lieutenants, who darted forward, attempting to take something off the MALP.

Major Carter was closest to his approach, and stepped forward to stop him.

Expecting this, Anjal pivoted suddenly, grabbing her instead, and pulling her back to the line of locals.

Further making his point, and claim, Rors strode over to the major, took hold of her arm, and shouted over his shoulder as he began to drag her away, "Take the things; throw the newcomers in the Ring."

Carter struggled against him as the crowd moved toward the SGC team. Managing to elbow the reptile, she began to wriggle away, when he pulled a jagged blade and brandished it toward her.

A single pop echoed through the tight space, bouncing off rock, Ring and person. Everyone froze in place, only to see Rors stop, teeter on his feet and then drop to the ground on top of the outsized Carter.

In the still silence, she quickly pushed him over, revealing a trickle of bright green goo, bubbling from a hole in the center of Rors' forehead.

O'Neill lowered his gun, slightly, waving the stunned crowd away from the MALP and DHD, and out of the ravine. "All right, everybody back off! Your sticks are nice, but my stick is a lot faster. And louder. And it hurts more. A lot more."

Britain and Daniel jogged into the ravine as Carter disentangled herself from the body, and moved quickly back toward her teammates.

"You OK?" O'Neill asked.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." She untangled her own weapon, and resumed her post at the MALP.

Seeing Rors, and the slowly stirring crowd, Jackson whispered to Britain, who gripped his arm in clear hopes to be let in on what had happened. "Oh, this is not good. Looks like Rors got himself killed by Jack."

Recovering enough from the quick change of events and tides, Anjal shouted to fill the sudden void in leadership, with more of the same leadership. "You will do as told. Leave us and do not return!"

"Oh, I'm going all right," O'Neill shouted back, giving the new guy the same business eye he'd shared with Rors. "Carter, Teal'c, Daniel, we're sooo outta here."

"I don't think so, Jack," the scientist protested softly, moving slowly down to address his colleagues. "Um, you just killed the leader of the village. This is bad. Very bad."

"'Zilla there made it clear that we're not welcome; and it's obviously not safe."

"Sir," interjected Carter, "this does complicate things here significantly, both for us and the village. I think it best to check in with General Hammond before cutting ties entirely."

Jackson nodded, "We also need to stay and show them, again, that we don't intend any harm. Leave the supplies and me for the moment, as another sign of good faith."

Trusting his other two sharpshooters to watch the villagers, O'Neill turned in disbelief, "Daniel, this isn't some museum field trip any more! These throwbacks have clearly stated an intention to kill us; and if you're worried about my defending ourselves against lizard man and the effects of his self-induced demise on the local 'political stability,' I think that's all the more reason to think deeply on this. From safely back at the SGC."

Daniel lowered his voice to point out that, "The only one who's actually hurt anybody so far, is you, Jack. Killing, even in self-defense, and then running doesn't look good; we can't eat, shoot and leave."

With aim still on the whispering locals, Carter again added, "Colonel, not everybody in the village wants us gone; and we still don't have answers about the Keepers. It would be good to try and salvage our welcome. For safety's sake, I'll stay with Daniel until you get back with Hammond's revised instructions."

O'Neill was clearly frustrated by their intent to stay, but could see that his trusted friends and colleagues had a point, and didn't intend to give it up. He exhaled loudly, and revised his orders. "Safety off, Major. And you bug out and bring the good doctor with you at the first sign of trouble. Capiche?"

She nodded to him, and he looked to Jackson for the understanding and appreciative one he received,

"I am so over this place!" he exclaimed, stomping loudly and cautiously down to the DHD with Teal'c. "It's been downhill since the kid appeared _behind _the Gate. Bad sign, that was…"

Before the event horizon filled the Gate, he made what he hoped was the universal "eyes-on-you" sign at Anjal, and pulled out the MALP remote to take back the remaining goods it carried.

Weapon still handy, Carter joined the disappointed Daniel and the quiet Britain as they waited for the others to pass. Instead of leaving immediately, and without discussion, the villagers removed all the clothing from Rors' body and tossed it into the backside of the event horizon. They had no more use for anything of him save his reusable belongings, which like them, would move on in service of the community.

"The village meets tonight at sundown to choose a new leader," shouted Anjal so that all present could hear and spread the word. "Let they who count be present to be counted."

Turning the crowd in the direction of the village, he backhanded the on-duty watcher, who'd wisely sat out the conflict so far, and threatened to do so to Britain as well—choosing not to follow through given looks from both Carter and Jackson.

In turn, they looked to Britain for what sense he'd make of the quarter hour and its aftermath. He simply stared down toward the ground, and began walking toward the settlement himself.

* * *

_A/N: A shorter chapter, I know; but it's a pivotal one. Thanks for the follow alerts and faves; please keep the reviews coming too -let me know what you think!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Stargate SG-1: Broken**

by mirwalker

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Carter and Jackson sat outside the Broken house, sipping from mugs of hot floral water, as the eerie green twilight of Menagerie faded to darkness.

"What do you think's going to happen?" asked Sam, meaning both the village vote, and the any moment update from Stargate Command, now that O'Neill had finally been able to peel General Hammond away from the rogue team fallout.

"I don't know," bemoaned Daniel, seeking some solace in the steam rising up across his face. "Britain says that Anjal will likely prevail in his claim to Rors' place in charge, that the gang will likely go along unless one of them tries to make a push for it."

"What about Britain himself?"

He harrumphed, and sat back on the roughhewn bench, "They won't even let the Broken into the meeting. No rights to protect, I guess; so no voice or vote. He's stuck standing outside and listening."

"This place gets crueler by the minute…"

"And I have even less idea what Hammond's reaction will be—if he even lets Jack return…"

Having to admit that she didn't either, as complicated as things had quickly become, Carter tried to consider their commanding officer's largest concerns— interplanetary security, which one mystery on this planet impacted directly. "And then what of the Zookeepers? I haven't been able to determine anything about the technology or source of the towers, other than that they're very advanced. But, if they are watching all this…"

On the reminder of yet another unknown party who might enter the muddle, Daniel ran his hand over his face, as if that might wipe away some lack of clarity. "Britain says there's no history of their ever getting involved directly, no interventions. I don't think he's convinced anyone is paying any attention. And I trust his instincts. He is one sharp, if sightless, cookie as Jack might say."

Sam watched her friend struggle, knowing how personally he took their responsibility to the peoples they came across in their travels. And perhaps how his passions might be at play in this particular situation. She opened her mouth to speak several times, before finally just blurting it out, "Speaking of sweets, Daniel: Britain adores you, you know?"

"I'm flattered, Sam; really," he dismissed. "But I'm a lot more concerned about how the others treat him and the other 'Broken', and how they're all going to react now."

She leaned in, asking, not insisting, "I think we'd all agree with you on that one. But your focusing on Britain won't change that in itself. Are you sure there's not something else?"

He stood and paced, as her casual pressure did seem to hit a nerve regarding their host. "What do you want me to say, Sam? He's amazing! He's a linguistic prodigy, a de facto first contact diplomat, and has organized the worst off in his community into its most efficient and supportive working group. If it weren't for his vision loss, he probably would be leading the colony instead of being subjugated by it…" He pointed off toward the gathering where that was likely not coming to pass.

"Daniel…, are you _attracted_ to him?" she asked with clear, non-judgmental curiosity and concern.

He turned toward her, with his own mouth now open. He closed it, and blinked repeatedly, before protesting, "What? No! I mean, yes, in that he's intelligent, observant, has an incredible integrity and sense of service. What's not to like?"

Her look indicated that he'd confirmed her point precisely.

"But… He's attractive, Sam; but I'm not attracted to him. Grief over Sha're's death aside, he's just not my… type."(1)

"You know, as a civilian, you're not bound by the…"

"Sam, I don't love him! I don't like him! I don't care for him!" he cut her off, before dropping his voice, as if in consolation. "Not in _that_ way."

"Daniel, I know it's not my place to nose in; but from what I've seen of the way he behaves around you, I think you might want to let him know that."

He looked up toward, and then beyond her, with a rapidly regret-filled look. "I think I just did."

Carter turned to see a crestfallen Britain standing silently in the darkened doorway. He had returned, perhaps with news, or at least to refill their mugs. Instead, he turned abruptly and darted quickly through the open town gate.

"Oh Daniel, I'm sorry," Sam tried to whisper, as Daniel called and ran after, "Britain!"

* * *

Britain kicked at the stone near his customary place, on the rocky pedestal just in front of the Ring, where inattention to its opening would be most costly to the Watcher on duty. In the still night, he heard quiet footsteps approaching from the ravine's open end, interrupted suddenly by a thud, stumble and "whoa!"

Even with a borrowed lantern, Daniel still had to explain that "It's really dark on the way up here."

"I'd not noticed," Britain reminded flatly, wiping his cheek as he turned away.

"You disappeared pretty quickly. Then Utuvien pointed out the watchwoman you relieved; so I came up…," Daniel explained, as he walked nearer, but not too close. It was still close enough. "You're crying."

"Only my sight is broken."

"Fair enough," he conceded, deciding that he too needed to be to-the-point. "Britain, I _am_ sorry if it hurts you to hear it, and I'm _very_ sorry I didn't say it more gingerly before. But that doesn't change the fact that… that I don't love you."

"Your heart is already full with another," he wondered.

Daniel set the lantern down, committing to talk through the pain he'd not meant to add to Britain's more than fair share. "I am a widower, Britain, as we discussed; and Sha're's death is still difficult for me. But that's not the reason…"

"It's because I'm Broken, isn't it?! How can you judge me on that? You of all people, telling us to take more pride in ourselves. And your eyes need spectacles; you are also broken! We have that in common."

"No, it has nothing to do with your blindness or my glasses," Daniel sighed. "Besides, vision issues are not the basis for a relationship."

Britain persisted, "You treated me with respect from the moment you arrived, like a person. We have talked, and laughed, and shared. You could have gone back through the Ring with your leader; but _twice_ you have chosen to stay. Is that not concern and interest…?"

"As a friend! Britain, you're making me out as some sort of knight in shining armor…," when he felt like anything but in this moment. "I am really sorry that you've been treated as you have by everyone; you certainly deserve better. But I've been _nice_, nothing more. You're a great person. You serve your people despite their indignities to you. You are incredibly insightful and intelligent. And through our talks, I have grown fond of you. But that is not love, and it won't ever be. Not like it seems you'd like it to be."

Behind them, the Gate began to activate, and Britain pushed past Daniel to take up his spot behind the puddle.

Stepping through to join him, Daniel tried to continue offering Britain what positive assurances he could. "That'll be Jack and Teal'c coming back with an update on how we have to proceed… Britain, we've known each other just a few days. How can you love me from that?"

"I am not some lovestruck, backwater blind boy," Britain retorted, the suggestion seeming to have angered him out of his sadness. "With three tens of years, I'm among the oldest in this long-forsaken village. I have witnessed again and again that life here is too hard and too short to dally, and not to take advantage of whatever time is available… Well, _I_ would like to do a little more than just survive. Your team's arrival could give that opportunity to us all; I hoped you might mean so for me." The last sentence was uttered almost with regret, shame at the selfishness it seemed to suggest, even before it turned out to be futile.

Britain turned back to the formed puddle, speaking to its consistency in the unfair existence he knew, "Hope against hope and strong, fast relationships are how we all have survived here. It obviously will not serve me now, with you."

They could hear the sound of two exits from the wormhole, prompting Britain to raise his staff in preparation to greet the arrivals, as Jackson moved closer to him, still trying to make him understand before whatever came next in their adventure together. "Britain…"

"Hearts aside, Daniel," Britain reminded, as he waited for the Ring to close. "You've killed our leader, with consequences no one can yet see. In the mean, I have a people to care for; and a duty to provide now."

A low, gurgling growl rumbled through the ravine from around the Ring.

"That doesn't sound like Jack or Teal'c…," Jackson started to point out, as the Gate snapped shut, and darkness fell again. He turned his lantern into the box end of the canyon, illuminating two large, snarling and shimmering bear-like creatures pacing unhappily.

"Step aside, Daniel, I have a duty… Welcome, newcomers!" Britain began his scripted speech.

Drawing and cocking his own sidearm, for the first time on this planet, Daniel began backing Britain up the ravine. "I don't think these are the talking types."

Understanding that something unpleasant had arrived, Britain raised his staff defensively, and howled up into the high walls above them, "Aaaaah-oooooooooooooooo!"

His shout echoed away down the ravine, but not before catching the ears of the creatures, as their eyes caught the light of Daniel's lantern.

Realizing how they were announcing their presence and location, Daniel hurled the lantern into an opposite corner, and turned Britain to flee toward the village.

Proving more feline than ursine, the creatures bounded up and off the steep sides, and quickly overtook the humans, herding them back into the dead-end. Clearly hunting the local fauna of their new location, the creatures lunged and paced on the Gate pedestal, kept at bay by a few staff strikes and gunshots, but also keeping their prey from escaping.

Knowing neither he nor Britain could run past or scale the walls faster than the beasts, Daniel was relieved to see the Gate beginning to dial again. _Surely this was Jack and Teal'c!_

Counting chevrons and hoping his timing was better than the creature's reflexes, Jackson fired a shot at the nearer beast, and then pretended to stumble, luring it to pounce at him. As planned, the vortex streamed forth at that moment, annihilating a large portion of the beast, as the remainder of the carcass dropped to the ground.

Initially surprised by the unexpected attack from nowhere, and then enraged by the loss of its hunting partner, the remaining bearcat bellowed behind the Gate, but apparently sensed better than to leap through the new obstacle.

Jackson hurriedly reloaded his gun, as the second creature leapt onto and over one side of Gate, and then toward him. Staff swinging, Britain threw himself in front of Daniel; but was unable not to be landed upon instead, as villagers' voices echoed up the canyon, and the expected remainder of SG-1 stepped cautiously through the Gate.

It took neither O'Neill nor Teal'c long to recognize the alarm in Jackson's eyes, or the danger of the creature between them. Having already been unsure what welcome Menagerie might give them, their weapons were already raised.

Sensing more new prey, the bearcat turned and lunged back toward them.

Daniel, like the others, was briefly overcome by the combination of energy blasts, automatic gunfire, snarls, shouts and the blinking shut of the Gate.

As eyes adjusted, ears rang, and smoke and the smell of singed flesh cleared, O'Neill and Teal'c quickly found Jackson beyond the lead-ridden body, where he'd already found the badly injured Britain.

"Daniel, what happened?" O'Neill asked, leaving out the obvious profane descriptors.

Ignoring the request for intel, Teal'c began pulling first aid materials from his pack. "These wounds are serious, Daniel Jackson."

Cradling the bloodied, limp and perfectly still local, Daniel tried desperately to get some sign from him. "Britain? Britain! Look at me!" Suddenly realizing the futility of what he's said, and anguished at the lack of response regardless, he scooped Britain into his arms, and stumbled to the DHD, dialing madly. Arms full, blood soaked and addled, he struggled to tap any, much less the correct sequence of symbols.

Following immediately, O'Neill tried to explain, "Daniel, he doesn't have time for…"

"Then help me, dammit!" Jackson shouted at him, eyes frantic.

His friends' desperation clear, and despite his orders, Jack finished the sequence, and stepped aside as Jackson bolted into the Gate the instant it stabilized, as Teal'c tapped his IDC transmitter.

With villagers still arriving, and looking on, O'Neill picked up Britain's smashed staff, which immediately fell into two shattered pieces.

"Broken…," he shrugged to Teal'c.

* * *

**NOTES**

1. Episode SGC 3.10, _Forever in a Day_, in which Teal'c kills Sha're to save Daniel from her Goa'uld symbiote.


	7. Chapter 7

**Stargate SG-1: Broken**

by mirwalker

* * *

**C****hapter 7**

Daniel sat beside the Infirmary bed, as he had for hours, leaving the others to handle whatever back-to-base tasks there were. Except for a quick change into the non-bloodied clothes Sam had brought him, and then only on the health order of an adamant chief medical officer, he had not moved from Britain's side since hand-delivering him to the medical team in the hallway outside the Gateroom.

He also hadn't stopped counting the injuries that lay before him as open evidence for mistakes he had made on Menagerie: Three different IV tubes in Britain's arms. A rat's nest of wires hooked up to a panel of machines and monitors as wide as the patient was tall. One arm in a soft cast only slightly less thick than the seeming bolt of fabric encircling his bony ribcage. Bloodied bandages down the side of an oddly peaceful face that was a mix of deep pallor and rich bruises. And that was just what was visible above the draped sheet. Just a sample of what he'd let transpire to a community, and to this person, who had welcomed him, trusted him, even…

Britain stirred ever so slightly, as a groan gurgled up and his eyes fluttered open. Coming to quickly—he'd probably learned that survival skill back in his inhospitable home—he was instantly and obviously in pain, confused and terrified. Despite his injuries, he flailed against the agonizing consciousness and unfamiliar surrounding, rousing Daniel, who gently took his hands and tried to offer reassurance, "Britain, it's Daniel. It's OK! You're safe. You're at Stargate Command."

As Britain recognized the familiar presence, he calmed quickly but continued to clutch at Daniel, seeking an anchor from which to make sense of the wash of new sounds, smells, textures and painful reports from across his body. Turning attention to himself, he became aware of the pressure of the sensor contacts on his forehead and chest, the oxygen tube at his nose, and the IV drips in his arm; and he misunderstood the truly alien technology. "Why am I tied?"

"They're not restraints," Daniel explained, urging him to lie back. "They are just a means of delivering medicine. You were badly hurt in the creatures' attack at the Ring on Menagerie; I brought you here, to Earth, so our doctors could treat you."

Almost distracted by the mention of Earth, he kept his grip on Daniel's hand and shifted his attention quickly from the news to known friend. "Earth…? Wait, are you well? You fell; the creature lunged…"

Touched by the patient's concern for him, he nonetheless buzzed for the doctor while catching up Britain on the ravine battle. "I'm fine; you saw to that. But you took a really nasty blow for getting in the way. How do _you _feel?"

"Tired... Sore…," he answered honestly, before a slight grin crept over his face. "And, oh no, everything's dark; I can't see…" Feeling Daniel tense, before relaxing at the joke, he confessed, "Breathing hurts, and I tingle all over."

"Try to lie still; you'll be fine now that you're here."

But the leader of the Broken couldn't relax too soon. "The village? The others?"

"They're fine. Between us and the villagers, both the creatures were killed before… before they could hurt anyone else."

If Britain felt any anger at being the sole casualty, he didn't show it. Instead, he returned to the voyage it had garnered him. "You brought me through the Ring? Am I really on Earth?"

Dr Fraiser hurried over, having apparently arrived in time to hear her patient's approving disbelief. "You are, indeed, Britain. But you have a lot of healing to do, before doing any sightseeing."

Daniel made introductions and a report, "Britain, this is Doctor Fraiser. He says his breathing is painful and he's tingling…"

The good doctor nodded, beginning to explain to her colleague that, "He took a severe-"

Jackson interrupted her, earning him a grateful hand squeeze. "Doctor, he can hear. Please speak to him, not just about him. And be honest, he can handle it."

"Of course," she corrected immediately and with her own grateful nod. "Britain, the animal that attacked you inflicted some severe lacerations across your abdomen and arms, as well as some significant blunt trauma to your ribs and chest. You're feeling the effects of that bone, muscle, and nerve bruising. You really do need to lie still and rest to give it all a chance to heal."

Before she'd finished, the intercom summoned the two staff members. "Doctors Fraiser and Jackson, report to the briefing room. Doctors Fraiser and Jackson, report to the briefing room."

Fraiser nodded that she was apparently done, and stole a quick peek at several screens as Daniel took his leave, with a squeeze of his own. "That'll be my boss; I have to go. You rest, let the staff take care of you; and I'll be back as quickly as I can."

Reluctantly, Britain let go of his hand and only as the duty nurse arrived and began introducing herself and taking vitals.

As Jackson and Fraiser got to the door, Britain called out after them, hoping they hadn't gotten beyond earshot. "Daniel! What does it smell like?"

Turning back with a puzzled look, Daniel shrugged, "What does what smell like?"

"Out there," Britain clarified. "Earth…"

Smiling, but not able or willing to grant that experience yet, he just threw back a playful, but firm, "Rest!" His glance to Janet as they continued toward the meeting room six levels up, asked her whether and when he might offer.

* * *

Minutes later, they'd passed an inbound SG team heading for their post-travel exams, and joined the rest of SG1 team on the way to the Level 27 conference room, overlooking the Stargate. Looking a little tired from hours of meetings, phone calls and flights of late, General Hammond was reading the team's initial After Action Report, to refresh himself on the latest on the Menagerie situation, while Fraiser updated them all on their unexpected patient.

"Britain's internal injuries are significant, but not imminently life-threatening; and he's lost a lot of blood. I've treated the wounds, given him transfusions. I'm waiting on some final blood work to come back; that may give us a little help in trying to customize some nutrient IVs for him, since he arrived anemic and more than a little malnourished. Beyond that it's up to time, rest and him."

Without looking up, Hammond pressed for a more specific outlook, "Doctor, what's his overall prognosis?"

She glanced at Jackson, knowing he hoped to hear something more positive and certain. "Good, sir; to survive as long as he has on that planet, he's obviously a fighter."

"I'm sure you're doing everything possible," Hammond assured, with a look up to punctuate his confidence. "That brings us back to the question of the situation on Menagerie. We've now killed the village's leader…"

"In self-defense," O'Neill reminded, with a little less anger than had been his initial reaction on the planet itself.

The general ignored the addition. "...And now have the leader of a significant minority group in our Infirmary. I wonder where there that leaves the village in terms of viability and stability both internally and in relations with us."

Carter spoke up to offer more positive contributions of their visit. "We did also kill two predators before they were able to reach the village or hurt anyone else. That should buy us some goodwill."

As she'd spoken, a medical technician had knocked, nodded an apology, handed Fraiser a medical file and whispered something to her. The physician's face wrinkled as she flipped through it urgently; and she let out a disappointed sigh as the major finished her report.

"Hey, Doc?" O'Neill asked on behalf of everyone. "Anything you'd like to share with the rest of the class?"

Fraiser cast another mournful look toward Jackson, before explaining as she continued to read. "They're the lab results on Britain. The MRI shows that his optical nerves have degenerated very badly, apparently due to an untreated viral infection in early puberty. I'm afraid that damage is irreparable."

"What about the optic regenerator that Nyan used when I had been blinded?" asked Teal'c.

"Daniel and I had talked about that already," Carter shook her head, "but he didn't bring it from Bedrosia with him when we all made our escape."(1)

"Damn!" shouted Fraiser.

"Doctor?" Hammond politely demanded an explanation.

"I'm sorry, sir," she replied, sparing no energy for any additional indicator of remorse. "I'm reading Britain's detailed blood series that shows something the earlier tests missed. "

"Which is…?!" Jackson asked, on the edge of his seat when she seemed to slip back into silent reading.

"There's a dilute, slow-acting, but extremely toxic compound in his blood; the creature's bite or claws were venomous."

"What?! How did you not…?" Jackson shouted, barely beating her to his feet.

"I'm not sure, but I need to get on it. Excuse me," she didn't ask as she bolted from the room.

As Jackson and Carter made to follow, Hammond called them back to the table. "Major, Dr. Jackson, I think Dr. Fraiser can handle it for the moment."

They grudgingly complied.

"As she does, and since we're all in one place for the first time since all this started, I'd like to talk through the security issues from our end of Menagerie. In addition to the situation with the village inhabitants themselves," he glanced at the open file before him to make quote the team's report, "we also have 'evidence of relatively recent, non-Gate abductions of human beings by an unknown, off-world power.'" He looked up, signaling he expected an update or further explanation.

"You had contacted our allies for any information they have?" reminded Carter, knowing the team had nothing more to add from the visited planet.

Hammond nodded, "The Tollan don't know anything. The Asgard reminded us that there are any number of interstellar-capable species. And the Tok'ra…"

O'Neill's hand shot up like a school kid's. "Ooh, ooh, I know. They don't know anything. Or… at least aren't willing to tell us anything. Am I right? What did I win for guessing correctly?"

"Actually, they're sending representatives to hear more about this Menagerie planet and its technologies."

O'Neill flopped back in his chair, "That's the same thing as what I said. They're coming to steal our reconnaissance and then rub our nose in our ignorance."

"We'll dial that Gate when we get to it, Colonel," his Commanding Officer suggested. "In the meantime, I'd like the Major to continue her analysis of the scans you made to see what more you can discover about these 'Keepers' you're hypothesizing are monitoring things. Threat, ally or trading partner, the Tok'ra and we are interested in knowing who we're dealing with here. And Dr. Jackson, I'd like you to think about how they may react to our recent arrival and its consequences. Dismissed."

* * *

His eyes fluttered open, providing no information on where he was; but he quickly recognized the chirp of the medical tools around him, and a steady breathing beside him. Reaching out with a weak smile, Britain's hand landed squarely on a face, whose body jerked upright at the light smack.

"Huh? What?" Daniel shook himself awake, and half-stood in expectation of needing to do something. He'd also managed to grab the attacking hand, and quickly followed it back to its source. "Britain? Oh, I'm sorry; I must have dozed off."

"I know," was the shaky response, as Daniel sat back down and situated himself and the chair to make the connection comfortable for them both. "You should go and get some rest," he was encouraged instead.

He patted the weak hand that was worried about him, asking, "How do you feel?"

"With my hands," Britain smiled and lightly wriggled his fingers, before clenching and unclenching his fists, as if sore. "Everything itches now."

Jackson smiled at the persistent humor, but said nothing.

"Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to go back to Menagerie."

Jackson sat up straighter still. "Oh. But I haven't had a chance to take you outside yet, to show you the sounds and smell of your ancestral, home world…"

"I don't have to leave this mountain to know that this world is not my home."

** "**What do you mean?" This turn of thinking surprised Daniel on most levels, as he had expected there to be some adjustment to the new place; but not enough to make Britain wish to leave it so soon.

"I can hear your people talking, the doctors and soldiers, about governments, money and sporting teams, wars and problems. From just the little I've heard, I know this is not the perfect world I have imagined it to be; not the paradise I believed in."

"No world is, Britain," Daniel reminded. "But you'll be much better treated here than on Menagerie."

"As fascinating as all the new things would be, we have challenges enough on Menagerie, where people need me and I can make some difference. Rors is dead; Anjal will carry on his legacy; and the Broken will have it all the worse for our friendliness to you. You and your friends all have a role to play here, people who count on you and about whom you care. Even a blind orphan can recognize that as a home, Daniel, in whatever language. But it is not mine. My place, my people and my relationships –my home is through the Ring."

Daniel held the near hand in both his, insisting, "We've got to get you better first, and then we'll make travel plans… Rest now," he suggested firmly, easing it with a gentle run of his hand through Britain's hair.

Needing to stretch, and to cut off further discussion, he walked out into the corridor, where he rested his forehead against the concrete wall as deep and impenetrable his guilt and helplessness.

Carter found him there some time later, as their teammates and Fraiser arrived to try their next unorthodox fix.

"Hey," she called to him with a consoling pat on the arm, "Hammond's agreed to let me give it a try." She nodded to a locked box in her hand.

* * *

As a nurse ran a few tests on Jackson from the next bed over, Teal'c and O'Neill stood by in case something went wrong, and Fraiser monitored the prone patient, Carter finally exhaled and slumped back from beside Britain's bed. Wiping sweat from her forehead, as he shivered and glistened with sweat himself, she walked over to join her colleagues beyond his possible earshot. Frustrated, she removed the ornate Goa'uld healing device, and flexed her fingers after the intense exertion. "I'm sorry; I just can't get it to work. Nothing!"

Teal'c quickly locked the relic back in its container, as O'Neill patted her on the shoulder. "We know you tried."

Visibly disappointed beyond wearied, she sighed, speculating on what else they could try to salvage the attempt. "Maybe it's easier to work when the patient has a symbiote or had one, like when Osiris was here."(2)

Dr Fraiser approached with two sets of charts, to share some good news. "Well, Dr Jackson, as we thought, it looks like you got too little venom from the indirect exposure to be affected; and you seem less susceptible to it. Britain absorbed quite a bit, and has some blood proteins that apparently are particularly vulnerable. Could be a result of his childhood viral infection, could be his possible interspecies pedigree. I'm not sure."

"But whatever the reason, it's not good?" O'Neill deduced.

The base physician shook her head sadly.

"What about a sarcophagus?" Jackson asked, grasping for another possibility to turn Go'auld horrors to their advantage.

"Remember what your exposure to the sarcophagus caused for you, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c suggested.(3)

"That was prolonged and repeated exposure; this would be a one-time fix!"

"It's moot, Daniel," O'Neill cut him off. "We haven't got one regardless."

"The Tok'ra might," he insisted.

"They won't use them; remember?" said Carter.

Clenching his fists in growing frustration, Jackson challenged his friends' quick naysaying at the glimmers of hope he offered. "Just because they don't sleep in it, doesn't mean they don't have one lying around somewhere! We've got to try something! Give him some of my blood if it doesn't affect me…," he turned to Fraiser.

"The transfusions we've given already didn't help; in fact they probably just made it worse—diluting some helpful enzymes also unique to his blood chemistry. I'm working on synthesizing some that will allow us to successfully transfuse to him, but that's going to take time. And with the severity of his wounds, his initial blood loss and the venom's already having moved into his tissues and organs, even that…" She lay her hand briefly on Jackson's arm, "While we work on it, we'll ease the pain and keep him hydrated. Beyond that, it's up to him. Anything we can do to keep him resting and upbeat…" With a doleful glance behind her dutiful smile, Fraiser moved off with all but Carter, who stepped up to Daniel.

"I'm sorry. I…"

"You tried, Sam; thanks."

"Maybe the Tok'ra can try when they get here," she gestured to the healing device. "My Dad, Martouf… they'll be better with it."

The base alarms rang out, as the on-duty technician's voice announced through the PA system, "Unscheduled off-world activation. Unscheduled off-world activation."

Carter batted Jackson on the shoulder, smiling, "We don't have any more teams scheduled for return today; so that must be the Tok'ra. See, right on time to save the day!" Pulling him after her, she headed toward the control to greet the visitors in hopes of good news.

* * *

The Gate was already open behind the closed iris, as SG-1 joined General Hammond at the main station.

"We are receiving a radio transmission," the sergeant reported, "but it's not an IDC code."

"Let's hear it."

A burst of static was replaced by a scratchy, but clearly recognizable message, "Personnel of Earth Stargate Command, we are they you call the 'Keepers' of Menagerie."

Each word was seemingly said by a different speaker, as a collage of several voices, most notably Major Carter and Colonel O'Neill's.

"How…?" asked Hammond, as the others reacted to the unexpected caller.

"…You have interfered with our project on Menagerie."

"The observation devices," Carter whispered, as the speakers continued, "They must have recorded our radio and other conversations, and seen us dial home…"

"Your unplanned presence, your introduction of unintended technologies and supplies, your intervention in the natural social structure and your removal of one subject have greatly compromised the integrity of the project."

Jackson broke in, not caring whether they could hear him, "Your _experiment_ is an exercise in base injustice and social engineering!"

The patchwork warning continued, "Further disruptions will not be tolerated. Any attempts to visit, contact or otherwise contaminate the project settlement may necessitate the elimination of the project population."

With that, the transmission ended and the Gate closed abruptly.

Gaping, Hammond turned to his various personnel, expecting an explanation, a reconnection, a solution –something. As the technician and Carter punched at the controls to make sense beyond the obvious, Jackson ran his fingers through his hair and nearly hopped away in frustration, as a surface read meant he would not be able to provide what Britain had just asked him for.

An island of calm amidst the others' turmoil, O'Neill tutted with disappointment, "They couldn't've slapped on a 'thanks' or an 'over and out'? Something?"

Beside himself, Jackson resumed his own problem-solving and persuasion, "We can't just stay away now; we've done too much, and the Broken _need _Britain. Once he's better, sending him back wouldn't violate their conditions. Removing him in the first place is one of their issues, so putting him back would resolve at least that one."

Not able to unpack their communiqué beyond what it clearly was and meant, Carter turned to resolving her friend. "But how can we be sure that they won't consider him another contaminant, now that he's been here, learned about us, been treated by us… Do you really want to risk him?"

"Why don't we just call 'em and double check if it's OK?" O'Neill nodded toward the Gate.

"Jack, this is serious," Hammond chided.

O'Neill feigned hurt and surprise; but Carter's eyes lit up. "Actually, the Colonel may be right." She turned to the General, "Sir, we could send a radio transmission to Menagerie through the Gate, without actually sending anyone or any _thing_ through. The Keepers can obviously send and receive radio signals as they did ours; but the villagers don't have a radio, so that wouldn't 'contaminate the project.'"

"Do it," he seized the opportunity immediately. "We'll apologize for the intrusion, see if we can return Britain and try to build a relationship from there."

Daniel cast his eyes back to the Gate, adding a silent plea for success to the dialing instructions already underway.

* * *

**NOTES**

1. Episode 319, _New Ground_.

2. Episode 303, _Fair Game._

3. Episode 205, _Need_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Stargate SG-1: Broken**

by mirwalker

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Daniel exited the elevator without speaking to the other staff continuing on to other levels, and shuffled down the corridor with his head as low as his spirits. Nothing they'd tried, nothing he'd done or dreamt up seemed able to make any difference to Britain's health or happiness. In fact, it only seemed to get worse no matter what they did. And now, though his teammates had volunteered to be there with him, he knew that he alone had to figure out how, or even if, he could break the newest news that would break the younger man's heart.

Turning into the Infirmary, his eyes immediately noticed unexpected movement at Britain's bed; and he looked up to see the feverish and near-delirious patient somewhat upright at the bedside, trying feebly to disentangle himself from all the monitoring equipment. He rushed over, scolding, "Britain, you shouldn't be up."

"I can't I can't stay here," the feverish man scratched out, with more vehemence than his appearance suggested he should be able to muster. "The others need me, and I'm no use here…"

"You're burning up; you need to lie down for now," Daniel insisted, supporting him and trying to turn him back to the bed.

"No, please let me go home! Let me go… Daniel…," he pled, his burst of energy waning quickly, until he sagged against Jackson.

Holding him firmly so he didn't fall, and couldn't flee, Daniel apologized, "I can't. I can't let you go home; not now, not..."

Britain's insistence and resistance had evaporated entirely, and he feebly let Daniel get him back on his back. He didn't move from where he was placed, draped like so much cloth on the bed.

Knowing it was more exhaustion than surrender, Daniel offered him a sip of ice water, and then wiped his face and arms with a slightly less cold cloth. "I know it hurts; I'm doing everything I can. And I promise you, I'm going to take care of everything. Somehow…"

More lucid for the small ministrations, Britain whispered, "You are not responsible for me, Daniel. You've no obligations to me." When his friend fell still and silent at that release, he weakly wrapped his fingers around Daniel's hand, sensing it was hesitance, not lack of content. "Is there something else?"

Daniel bit his lip and swallowed, before he could clarify, "I am grateful that you saved my life; and I care about you Britain. That's still the best I can offer."

"Then that will have to be enough… And you are saving mine now; so we are even, and will build from there." Slight squeeze. "I would still very much like to go home. Please?"

The catch in Daniel's breathing was audible; and there was a tremble in his firm, but gentle grip.

"Daniel? Your breathing has changed; what is it?" Britain dragged his hand up Daniel's arm in reassurance, but was not able to reach beyond the elbow. "When I go back to Menagerie, we can remain in contact through the Ring. Daniel?"

Daniel cleared his throat, and retook the comforting, if misunderstanding hand. "Britain, I need to tell you something else... Dr. Fraiser has done a number of tests, and… has determined that the damage is probably too extensive for her to do anything else."

Softly, but surely as he'd always been about his infirmity, Britain forgave, "I long ago came to accept my blindness. I did not expect your medicine to fix it."

"I'm not talking about your eyes, Britain," Daniel corrected, his own beginning to leak a little, as he pulled his chair closer. "Your wounds are bad. Very bad. And the animal's claws appear to have been poisonous. It's just too much. Even the healing device of the Tok'ra—the allies I told you about who'll be here anytime now, even their technology, it doesn't seem to have any effect. I'm so sorry. I can't make it better…"

Britain didn't move at all, soaking in the full meaning of what Daniel had shared, at what his apology really meant, at why he seemed upset. He could see the big picture. "Fitting. But I have lived longer than my parents or most Broken… So I will go back to the village, and die with my people. I will do what I can to help them adjust to Anjal as leader, and to that without me. I owe them that."

"Britain, there's more…," Daniel hurried to stay ahead of his swelling anguish. "You can't go back. The beings we referred to as the Zookeepers apparently do exist, and have sent word that if we meddle or otherwise contact Menagerie again, there will be dire consequences for the village. We don't know whether it's really them, whether it's a bluff, or anything. But we don't feel it's wise to risk it—for your sake, or the village's."

He sighed, sniffled and swallowed, making his final, tearful apology. "So despite everything you've done for us, I can't make it better and I can't take you home. I don't know what else to do for you; I'm so sorry, Britain. I can't fix-" Unable to continue, he dropped his head, still clutching Britain's hand, as if to wring some further release from it.

Britain did not stir at first, his expression already one of someone entirely spent on every level. Rather than mirroring Daniel's sorrow, a wave of weary anger pushed through any other emotions steeping in his fatigue; and he pushed out quiet words with crisp intention. "I have _never _believed I needed to be 'fixed,' Daniel, never let them make me be truly 'broken.' I have only ever wished to be _whole._" He slipped his hand up to rest against Daniel's damp face. "In what time there was and for my part, you have helped make me that. For that I thank you."

Finished, Britain pulled back his hand, closed his eyes, and turned away to rest, leaving Daniel free to quickly step toward the door and distance from such fierce forgiveness.

Not trying, or able, to see ahead of him, Jackson softly slammed into Carter, who had witnessed the exchange after coming down to lend support. "Daniel, wait…"

Jackson's frayed ends unraveled in the presence of someone he could trust, and someone who should know better than to try any quick comfort. "That's all I can do now, Sam: wait! For him to die. I broke his heart and he saved my life, and all I can do is watch and wait."

"You kept him from dying alone in that canyon," she pointed out flatly, knowing better than to go softer or harder in response to his passionate vent.

"I drove him off to the Gate that night, and then kidnapped him from his home! By death or Keeper prohibition, he'll never go back there, to his people. I've literally taken away ALL of what little he had. And still he is gracious," he pointed back to the absolution and affection Britain had just offered in exchange for the bad news.

"He _is_ an English gentleman," she tried adding a little levity to interrupt his understandable self-blame. She also suggested quickly, "Return the favor, and let that be enough."

"I can't do nothing, Sam; I can't… What would you do if this was Cassandra?"(1)

"Fight for her with every shred of possibility I could find or make. And you know why? Because I care about her, just like you care about Britain, Daniel. Whether you want to admit it or not, and even if it's not the way he'd like you to care, it's something. And you _can _help him, Daniel. Dr Fraiser says it's a matter of will for the time being, so be with him and give him some hope."

Hope flashed across his swollen eyes, before disgust crashed down over his face. "You want me to lie, to pretend that I love him so he'll hang on?"

Carter leaned toward him and lowered her voice, "I'm suggesting that you be honest that you do care. If that's all he's got, that might be enough."

"He's orphaned, blind, dying and now banished; he's collected the whole set!"

"It could be worse," she challenged him flatly.

"Enough with the stiff upper lip crap, Sam! How could it _possibly _be any worse?!" He threw his arms over his head, reaching for this elusive "better" she kept offering.

"He could be alone," she said simply. She stepped over to him, placed a soothing hand on his cheek, and slowly turned his gaze back into the room. "Don't let him be alone."

Seeing his spiral had been broken, she put her hand on his back, and guided him back toward the bed. "It's OK to have feelings for him, whatever those feelings are… He's a wonderful person, an old soul, and you know that, we all do. Regardless of the body."

They stood at the foot of the bed, where Britain had not moved at all, beyond the shallow breathing still registering on the monitors.

"…Regardless of the body," Daniel repeated, as if taking her advice as a manta for the moment. "Regardless of the body." But rather than calming further, his eyes flew open and he jumped in place. "Regardless of the body! That's it!"

He gave her a quick, excited hug, took a long look at their patient and ran from the room with a bewildered major not far behind.

* * *

Hammond, O'Neill, and the just arrived Tok'ra representatives Aldwin and Martouf were sitting at the conference table talking over paper reports; and all looked up at the heavy footsteps and shouting that started before the briefing room door was thrown open and Jackson ran directly toward the visitors.

"If you can't heal him with the device, you could give Britain a symbiote!"

Casting a glance at the surprised looks on the Tau'ri leaders' faces, Martouf stated calmly, "I'm sorry, Dr. Jackson, I don't understand."

"Dr. Jackson, really!" shouted the Earth general.

O'Neill shot a look at Carter who jogged in with a shrug to them all, curious herself where the outburst was going.

Jackson ignored his superior, as he leaned on the table and gestured to the two pale-clothed men. "You're always telling us about how you have trouble finding willing hosts; right? Well we've got one, a good one."

"Britain? Behind-the-Gate Britain?" O'Neill realized, with no small disbelief.

"As we'd communicated after your initial contact, Dr. Jackson, Britain is too badly injured…" Martouf began to explain with a little irritation slipping into his calm demeanor.

"…From wounds he received defending me. If I hadn't been there, he wouldn't have been injured trying to protect me. I owe him, and I'm asking you to help me correct that interference from us. It's win-win!"

The darker haired Tok'ra glanced at the papers they'd been given, and offered a different interpretation of events on Menagerie. "If I understand these reports correctly, Dr. Jackson, had your team never visited, he would have faced those creatures alone. If anything, your presence merely prevented him from being killed immediately. Allowing him to die would, in fact, restore that likely natural outcome."

Aldwin and Martouf looked at everyone for some confirmation or correction.

"Why you…!" Jackson started, not sure whether to be more shocked, disappointed or angry.

The Colonel re-entered the fray, assuring, "Daniel, sticking up for the Tok'ra is the last thing I'd ever want to do. No offense, Marty. 'Al'?" he stressed their valued friend and ally status with a nod to each visitor, and a dry smile for good diplomatic effect, before turning back to his scientist. "But we can't just hand out Tok'ra worms like aspirin every time somebody gets hurt. Besides, it's rude to always offer up the broken hosts…"

He winced immediately when he realized what he'd just said, and saw Carter smart at the further implication of her father's own bonding.(2)

Jackson turned the awkward interruption to his own argument. "Martouf, Aldwin, as indelicately as Jack put it, Selmak and Jacob have set a precedent for joining symbiotes and seriously ill hosts." He dropped his volume and changed his tone to asking over anger. "I realize that it isn't the ideal circumstance. But the improved recuperative abilities and the extended life ARE part of your selling points to potential hosts. And think about what the Tok'ra get for this little medicinal effort: Britain is an incredibly quick learner, has an amazing memory, is a superb reader of people and has an amazing aptitude with languages." Not seeing much change on the alien faces, he turned for help. "Sam?"

Not sure whether she sided with him entirely, she nonetheless offered that, "Britain could be a great translator, interrogator, or intelligence analyst."

Martouf cut to the quick, observing, "He is _blind_, Dr. Jackson."

"He is a person! Who has many other skills to offer," he shouted quickly. He took a breath, and moved to his core question as well. "Do you have a symbiote in need of a host? And, if so, shouldn't you at least let it have the option?"

Martouf looked to his colleague, as O'Neill shrugged almost in apology to them and his boss, unsure what to say.

"There is Shal'c," Aldwin shared softly.

Martouf's face made it clear he was not pleased with that revelation or idea; while Jackson seized on it, "Who is Shal'c? And what's wrong with him? Her? Shal'c?"

Martouf explained his expression, sounding almost apologetic that it had even been brought up. "I do not think that Shal'c would be either appropriate or interested."

The Stargate military officers looked confused. The scientist looked hopeful.

"Lantash does not care for Shal'c," Aldwin explained.

With a flash of the eyes, the evoked symbiote spoke from Martouf's body. His disdain was clear. "He is Goa'uld; a recent and, as you know, rare defector to the Tok'ra. Though professing to have renounced the Goa'uld hunger for power, he retains their arrogance and airs."

"'_Their _arrogance…?'" O'Neill smirked. "Seems to be a bit of the kettle talking there…"

Representing himself again, Martouf expounded, "Our point, Colonel, Dr. Jackson, is that I would not wish Shal'c on a host you obviously care for so much. And, I seriously doubt he would stoop to having a host with what, undoubtedly in his opinion, would be such a serious defect."

"But he might; right?" Jackson persisted.

Aldwin seemed not to share his colleague's adamant view on the issue, and provided more context than dismissal. "Having forgone the sarcophagus since his defection, and due to injuries sustained in evading the Goa'uld to reach us, his host nears his physical limit. Shal'c has proven sincere to date, but he does have that Goa'uld past. As you can see, he is not yet fully trusted among the Tok'ra." He looked directly to Jackson. "If Shal'c will have him, would Britain accept that burden?"

"Yes."

"Daniel," Carter half-whispered from behind him, "have you even asked Britain about this?"

"Not about his case specifically," he admitted. "But I've taught him a great deal about the Goa'uld and Tok'ra."

Martouf warned, "Dr. Jackson, the blending is not a decision in which you can speak for another. Britain must choose freely and with full understanding of the commitment and risk involved."

"He's a survivor; I know he'd agree."

"Then let us ask him," suggested Aldwin, standing to travel. "I would like to meet this great Britain."

Jackson smiled and gestured toward the elevator, as the others looked to one another for indication anyone would refuse. Both a little surprised at their apparent agreement, Martouf and O'Neill were last to leave the room.

* * *

**NOTES**

1. A relationship formed in _Singularity_ (1.15), and revisited in several episodes thereafter.

2. Jacob Carter had terminal cancer when he was joined with Selmak in _The Tok'ra, Part 2_ (2.12).


	9. Chapter 9

**Stargate SG-1: Broken**

by mirwalker

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Martouf had slowed his steps, allowing him and Carter to fall a little behind the gurney being rolled ahead of them by two SGC soldiers. Motivated by, or perhaps despite, the reassuring hand that Doctor Jackson kept on the barely conscious Britain, he asked, "Samantha, are you sure that Britain understands what he has agreed to try?"

Understanding his concern, having posed the same questions to her father not all that long ago herself, she spoke with confidence in her friend and colleague. "Whatever details he doesn't understand, he trusts Daniel. And as he said, he has nothing to lose."

Beside the rolling bed, Aldwin could see that the patient did not have much time left. "Dr. Jackson, I must again be honest that there are no guarantees that this will save Britain, if Shal'c agrees to join at all. He can always elect stasis for his part."

Daniel still didn't look up, sparing no attention for doubts, or anything else as they rushed Britain to new life. "I'm sure that we can convince him that Britain will make an excellent host, even it if buys both time while our doctors work on the anti-venom."

"Martouf and I will do our best, and will be in touch as soon as possible with news," Aldwin assured as they turned into the Gateroom where Hammond, Teal'c and O'Neill were waiting with an open Gate, and two Tok'ra soldiers.

As the goodbyes would be brief in the interest of quick delivery of the patient, the senior Tok'ra leader nodded his personnel to replace the SGC staff at either end of the gurney, and gently lift off the travel litter. He joined Aldwin at the foot of the ramp, facing the assembled SGC team, effectively drawing up the two parties across Britain.

"Wait…," protested Jackson, realizing this was a hand-off, not a larger traveling party. "But, I'm going with you. I'd like to be there, you know, to support him."

"A noble gesture, Dr. Jackson," Martouf insisted, "but unnecessary. We have some… _sensitive _operations underway, and would prefer not to have unnecessary visitors right now. Aldwin and I are already causing concern by bringing Britain; anyone additional and we risk the entire invitation. We will keep you informed." He turned to the Tau'ri leader. "General Hammond, I am sorry that we were not able to offer any additional information on the Keepers of Menagerie. I will take your reports to the Tok'ra Council so that we may also stay alert for them."

"Thank you, Martouf. Aldwin," the general shared, with handshakes for both, before heading back to the control room. "My best to the Council, as always."

Martouf turned to say good-bye to Carter, seeing nothing more needing to be said; but Jackson grabbed Aldwin's arm, not ready to accept their taking Britain on demand alone.

Unaccustomed to having hands laid on him, the Tok'ra tensed and glared, before quickly realizing the request and instruction in Jackson's action. "You have my word that we will do everything we can for him, regardless of Shal'c's decision."

Still reticent to let go, Jackson glanced over his shoulder, checking whether his friends saw what was happening. O'Neill's look was compassionate, but clear—these were the terms of the deal.

He looked back to Aldwin, not in anger, but anguish. He didn't want it to be this way, to have to let go.

Martouf started up the ramp. They were leaving.

Admiring the loyalty, and remembering beyond the sometimes callous pragmatism of his symbiote, Aldwin stepped back to the prone form, and gently took Britain's hand from Jackson's, into his, promising, "I will let you know the decision immediately. I will personally remain with him throughout, and return with him regardless."

Not moving from that spot, Jackson watched as Martouf disappeared into the puddle, followed quickly by Britain, with Aldwin still beside him.

As the flickering light also exited from the room, he felt Sam come up beside him and lead him away. She'd insist it was to get some long overdue sleep or food; but he most needed something else, something that this base, mountain and planet couldn't now offer.

* * *

Having been deep in thought when the announcement came over the intercom, Jackson ran into the Gateroom just after his teammates, and just as the iris retracted.

Seconds later, Aldwin emerged, with a much different looking Britain on his arm. Having traded his scrubs for a more traditional Tok'ra attire, he had also lost the cast and bandages—leaving only slight scabs on his face, and the obvious need for support in walking as signs of how close to death he'd been barely two days earlier.

Daniel rushed up the ramp, and took his other arm, exchanging wide smiles with the prodigal patient. "There's a good sight, our hale Britannia."

"Thank you. _We_'ve felt much better," admitted Britain, his voice clearly showing more strength and energy for the joining. Despite the significant recuperation, he didn't seem ready to let go of Aldwin; nor was Aldwin ready to release him.

"Martouf didn't say much more than Aldwin was bringing you back," Jackson explained as they approached the also smiling SG-1. "Everyone's come to see how you are."

O'Neill shook the outstretched hand, "Did they let you eat anything other than ice cream and Jell-O? When I had my tonsils out…"

Carter stepped in for a hug, sharing advice she could uniquely give among the Earth humans, "I know it feels a little funny, but you get used to it."

"It is good to see you again, Britain," Teal'c gushed stoically.

"I wish I could say the same, friend Teal'c," assured Britain, looking in his direction. "It is good to _hear _you. All of you."

O'Neill was the last to catch Britain's apparent attempt at a joke, another indicator the latter was mending.

"We should sit; he still has much healing to do," Aldwin interrupted the reunion in favor of caring for the still recovering man.

As Carter ushered them out, O'Neill turned to Teal'c, "How come _he_ gets to make blind jokes…?" He got only a single raised eyebrow, as they followed the others.

* * *

Dr Fraiser joined the team and visitors at the general's conference table, as they finished their update.

"Shal'c was able to counter the blood poison and tissue damage," explained Britain, "but we are both still very weak."

"Against our doctors' advice, Britain insisted on returning as soon as he could walk," Aldwin added, and with a little embarrassment, "and we are finding the combined Britain and Shal'c hard to refuse."

"I wanted to show you I was recovering, and to say thank you. All."

Never forgetting the source of that health and appreciation, O'Neill pointed to the back of his own neck. "And about the… uh…"

"I am sitting right here, Colonel," Britain said with light annoyance, having slightly misunderstood. "As Dr. Fraiser had discovered, the old damage to my eyes is considerable…" His voice changed dramatically, "Only time will tell whether I can restore his sight."

"Whoa!" the colonel reacted, not expecting that abrupt change. "Wait a sec'; I'm no eye doctor, but I heard the snake voice but missed the glowing eye thing."

Though there was no telltale transition in the eyes, there was a clear change in manner, as Shal'c asserted himself. Britain's chin rose, as the symbiote worked to project a more confident air. This despite awkward and unsuccessful attempts to look at the others around the table. The newly joined pair were obviously still becoming accustomed to one another.

"An unexpected benefit from the blindness," explained Aldwin. "He shows no external signs of the symbiote, and can obviously remain silent to mask the vocal change. An excellent advantage for a potential intelligence operative."

Shal'c continued, "I am pleased that I may finally be of service to the Tok'ra, and equally so at this opportunity to finally meet the members of the infamous SG-1 Team. I only wish that I might see you again, but…"

"The whole blind thing really bothers you, huh?" O'Neill almost relished. "Is that gonna be a problem for you?"

Still trying to track directly on him, Shal'c confessed, "In all honesty, Colonel, Britain is not my ideal host. However, he has an… unexpected spirit."

Across the table, Teal'c reminded, "He is also a means of proving your sincerity as a _shol'va _to the Goa'uld, and your loyalty to the Tok'ra."

"And he beats death in a dying host or years in a jar…," O'Neill added to their 'be good' challenges to the turncoat parasite.

"All true," nodded Shal'c. "And so, you see, we are using one another for what we each have to offer: life and redemption. Not so different in their grand scale."

On a roll, Jack couldn't help himself. "OK, here's question I've always wanted to ask. We've met other Tok'ra who introduce themselves by name and address. Are you just 'Shal'c?' You're not 'Shal'c of Milkshake' or 'Dialtone' or something?"(1)

Eyes narrowing as he realized he was being mocked, slightly, Shal'c allowed a little engrained pride to show through. "As you have undoubtedly also noticed, among the Goa'uld, there is no need for titles of origin. If we are living rightly, our name alone ought to strike fear enough: 'Ra,' 'Hathor,' 'Apophis, and 'Anubis.'" His head dropped slightly, as Britain returned, weakly, trying to head off a further show of hubris. "Besides, we rank among the newest and lowest of the Tok'ra, and as such carry no such honorifics."

"Shouldn't you be resting?" asked Jackson, with a pat to the arm.

Britain nodded, "The transition is still a little disconcerting; and we are very tired."

Fraiser, Jackson and Aldwin all moved to support him as he pushed back from the table.

The base physician trumped the other helpful intentions with an implied medical mandate. "Britain, let me take you to the Infirmary while the others talk. You can lie down for a while, and I'd like to run a few confirmatory tests."

She led him toward the elevator, as O'Neill again pushed one of his favorite, friendly targets. "So how is the new 'combo deal' being accepted by the other Tok'ra?"

"Lantash remains highly skeptical of Shal'c," shared Aldwin. "And the others are holding their judgment until the pair are fully recovered from the injuries and settled into the blending."

"So he won't be going on any missions or let in on any secrets any time soon?" asked Carter.

Aldwin shook his head, "No, not for some time. But, that leaves him time to adjust to the symbiote, and to learn our ways. I have been assigned to serve as his docent through the transition." He turned toward Hammond, shifting the conversation from the particular person to the larger situation. "Britain has also expressed interest already in learning more about the situation on Menagerie and its Keepers. We also wonder whether there is any larger threat or opportunity to be found there."

Hammond nodded. "We appreciate the Tok'ra's help for Britain; but still have a number of questions about the state of Menagerie and the source of its kidnapped residents."

"We will not have a ship in that area any time in the near future," the Tok'ra representative explained. "But we will attempt to visit it and do an orbital scan at our first opportunity."

"Britain is going to be understandably concerned about his people there; and we should be too. We've caused quite a bit of trouble there, and have only been able to fix one part of that." Jackson nodded toward where Britain had been sitting.

"As I understand," Aldwin assured, "Neither Britain nor Shal'c know the gate address for Menagerie, or other information on the planet's location. For now, at least, we'll be able to keep him from any reckless attempts to return himself."

Hammond nodded, adding, "I'm more concerned at the unknown, technologically advanced and ready-to-threaten force that's been observing and abducting our people for decades."

Minds around the table shared appreciation for the personal victory, and shared the concerns for the sleek architecture and scary actions of the unsolved mystery.

* * *

The next morning, Daniel helped Britain fasten the last of his new "uniform" in the Infirmary, after the final all clear from Dr Fraiser.

"So you both stayed here with me overnight?" Britain asked, still a little embarrassed at the attention.

"Well, in addition to the security concerns both our peoples have at having a Goa'uld defector in the building, I think both Aldwin and I feel a certain personal responsibility for you. He only stepped away now because General Hammond asked to see him before you both head back."

With a pat on his shoulders, Britain stood, and quickly tipped over, inviting an alarmed catch from Daniel, who guided him back to the bed's edge. "I'm OK," he assured. "We're still adjusting, still having to fine tune our joint perception and reactions."

"It's funny to hear you speak in the plural 'we.'"

"Grandmum said that's how the king spoke," Britain reminded, before breaking into a wide, contented smile, clearly not from his humorous memory. "I know what you look like now."

"You've imagined…?"

"No. I've _seen _you."

"What?!" Daniel bent down, peering into the eyes he didn't think could return the favor. "But Shal'c said…"

"Not with _my_ eyes," Britain corrected, "they may never work again. But with _his_…"

Now Jackson stepped away in shock. "What? When? Where?"

"Shal'c was raised in the service of Apophis, as one of the youngest of his Goa'uld entourage. He had just matured and taken a host when your team first arrived on Chulak, and Teal'c began his rebellion.(2) Shal'c saw you, briefly, at the palace before you escaped. The intended massacre, your team's efforts and Apophis' murderous reaction made enough of an impression on him that he ultimately broke from the Goa'uld and sought out the Tok'ra." He leaned against Daniel, bringing the story full circle. "I now share his fleeting glance of you."

They sat a moment, sharing a mutual, if vicarious look for the first time. Britain smiled for finally having a visual to round out his other senses of the man who had so changed his life, so quickly. Daniel smiled for Britain's happiness, even as he understood the ongoing differences in their affections, along with differences in their vision.

"You know, Britain, that with Shal'c's history and your blindness, the Tok'ra may not…"

Britain cut off the coming self-blame, sharing his new understanding for his precarious situation. "They are rightly skeptical of any alleged defector from the Goa'uld, and are hesitant to bring any possible weakness into their ranks. But neither of us has any other choice now. We must rely on our strengths to refute their doubts."

With an instant change in pitch, a new voice joined the discussion. "Your confidence in Britain also speaks well for him in their eyes, and for that support we thank you." The dually-controlled hand reached to share a Goa'uld confession, "He cares very much for you, Daniel Jackson, you know. I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable; it is a foreign and even frightening experience for me."

"My history with symbiote-infested admirers is not stellar, no offense," Daniel chuckled.

This symbiote continued, "Bear in mind that his affection was born not of superficial attractions, but of what he saw within. I am hoping, for both our sakes, that the Tok'ra similarly can look beyond the surface and find to trust us."

The hand was withdrawn quickly, as a blush spread over Britain's face, "I'm sorry; I can't believe he just told you that. We're still learning each other's…"

Daniel caught the hand, and held it. "He's right."

After a few moments of the renewed connection, Daniel stood, "We should make sure you're really good for travel…" And led them into the hallway.

The steadier Britain picked up Shal'c's hopes for the future. "I hope that at some soon point, I might earn enough of the Tok'ra's trust to secure a ship to visit Menagerie. Or perhaps to identify and confront the 'Keepers, to prevent them from abducting anyone else. And maybe we'd even return the villagers to their original homes."

"You're still concerned about the Broken, about them all," Daniel admired.

"I feel better than I have in many years," Britain indicated his physical form as they walked. "But I miss my people, my home; I worry..."

As they reached an intersection and began to turn in the direction of the Gate, Jackson stopped. He knew he couldn't guarantee Britain's adjustments, or resolve the harm they'd done to the settlement on Menagerie, or solve the mystery of the 'Keepers. But he knew Britain wouldn't stop trying, and so neither would he.

In the shorter term, however, he could offer a unique encouragement for that long road. Turning them in an entirely different direction, toward the surface, he whispered, "You know what would work wonders toward making you… both… feel even better? Some fresh air."

* * *

**NOTES**

1. Reference to the Tok'ra Councilors, e.g., "Garshaw of Belote," in Episodes 2.11 & 2.12, _Tok'ra, Pts 1 & 2_.

2. In the pilot, _Children of the Gods_, when the Earth team first meets Teal'c.

* * *

_That's it for this one! Thanks to all who've read, followed and reviewed along the way!_

_As an adaptation of an original TV-style script, I expanded a little on the story from that tight timeframe, but intentionally kept some of the un-answered questions that could be explored further in future stories._

_Please take a moment to share your thoughts on it (review!), check out my _Stargate: Atlantis_ and other fics, and let me know whether you'd like to see more of my additions to the SGC universe..._


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